


Insomnia

by Pterygio



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crime, Crimes & Criminals, F/F, Mystery, Organized Crime, Superheroes, Vigilantism, Whiterose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 66,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25558819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pterygio/pseuds/Pterygio
Summary: Weiss Schnee has been called many things—prissy, arrogant, freak. But vigilante? She couldn't quite get her head around that one. After her already unusual semblance develops a new ability, she stumbles onto a dangerous conspiracy and gains an unlikely friend. Together, they might just be able to save their city from the criminals who'd see it conquered.
Relationships: Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee
Comments: 170
Kudos: 215





	1. V1C1: Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to my beta readers on FF.net: Bardothren, I Write Big, and 0neWhoWanders. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.  
> If you'd rather read this story on FF.net, you can find me there as Pterygio.

"You've got really pretty hair," said the cab driver.

"Thank you," Weiss said with a polite smile, before remembering the cabbie couldn't see her.

"Where'd you get it dyed?"

"I didn't."

The cabbie's eyes glanced at her through the rear-view mirror. "You mean it's _naturally_ white?"

"Of course. It's genetic."

"Then you must be . . ."

Weiss frowned. "Must be what?"

"Never mind."

The taxi rolled to a stop at a red light. It was a busy intersection, as city hall was right there. The building seemed to draw a lot of attention, even from people who had no business inside. The metal statue built in front of it probably something to do with that.

It depicted an armored woman—a shield on her back, a sword in her hand, and a helmet tucked under her free arm. She looked like she was standing guard. The armor was so intricately detailed you could be fooled into thinking it could come off. The statue's surface glimmered in the afternoon sunlight, its reflective sheen showing how young it was. Passersby looked up mournfully at her face and some stopped to stare at the pedestal where a plaque was set. From where Weiss sat, she couldn't read the engraving—she'd been meaning to get a closer look at it since she first arrived in Vale, but still hadn't found the time.

The light turned green, and the statue vanished behind a building. Weiss turned her gaze away from the window and down to her scroll, where she pulled up a web browser and began mindlessly flicking through random news articles.

"You been in Vale long?" said the cabbie.

"A few weeks," Weiss answered.

"What do you think of the city?"

"It . . . it's not Atlas."

"Is that a good thing?"

Weiss hesitated. "I'd rather not talk, if that's okay with you."

"Oh. Right." She said nothing more.

Weiss continued to stare at her scroll. The articles flashed before her eyes, disappearing off the top of the screen almost as soon as they appeared from the bottom. She wasn't planning on reading any of them; she just wanted something to do. But then one title caught her attention— _Mayor Ozpin Comments on Paragons and Vigilantism._ Her thumb tapped on it and she began to read.

_Yesterday evening, Mayor Ozpin held a press conference to answer the public's concerns about paragons and the danger they allegedly pose to our city. When asked for his personal views on the subject, this is what the mayor had to say:_

" _I do not believe that cleri gemma natura, more widely referred to as paragons, are in any way a threat. What too few people understand is that the majority of semblances are incapable of harming another human being. Those rare few paragons who possess potentially lethal semblances are carefully monitored and should not be met with scorn or fear; they are no more dangerous than those licensed to carry firearms. At the end of the day, we're all people—we're all equal—and deserve to be treated as such."_

_As the discussion on paragons progressed, it naturally veered toward vigilantism. Mayor Ozpin shared his rather controversial views on this subject._

" _It saddens me how often the debates on these two topics seem to overlap in the eyes of the public. Not every vigilante has a semblance, just as not every paragon aspires to be a vigilante. These are two entirely different discussions, and to make them out to be one and the same only brings us further away from reaching a common ground._

" _But to answer your question, my stance remains unchanged. Vigilantes are criminals and should be apprehended. This city owes Pyrrha Nikos an unpayable debt—of that, there is no argument. And were she standing before me today, she'd receive my thanks as well as a pardon. But a line needs to be drawn between reality and fiction. Semblances or advanced technology do not make us superheroes. To assume that every vigilante will be the next Pyrrha Nikos would be frankly irresponsible and potentially disastrous. Putting on a mask and running around at night does not give you the right to ignore laws. Our police force is more than capable of fighting crime and apprehending even the most dangerous criminals, as was proven four days ago with the arrest of the terrorist, A . . ._

_Please subscribe to our newsletter to continue reading. For only 300 lien a month—_

Weiss sighed and tucked her scroll back into her bag. It'd be so easy just to give it her credit card information and read the rest of the article, but she couldn't. The cab meter was already up to six hundred lien. A meager amount, but she was already regretting spending it. She should've driven herself, she knew that, but the traffic was so busy today that she couldn't stomach the thought.

The taxi rolled to a stop a couple of minutes later. There were a few men across the street, chatting animatedly. Weiss noticed one watch her step out of the vehicle, but paid him no mind. She turned her attention away from him and to the dingy apartment building, double-checking that the address was right.

She knew before she even pressed the buzzer that it'd have no elevator, but couldn't help feeling a sense of dread as she entered the building. Her suspicions were quickly confirmed. Weiss suppressed a groan and looked for the staircase.

Fortunately, her client lived on the third floor, so it was a short climb. Her knuckles rapped against a door, three seconds passed, then it opened. A tall, blonde man that looked around her age stood inside the apartment. His blue eyes, a darker shade than her own, lingered on her snow-white hair, currently tied back in a long braid.

"Jaune Arc?" said Weiss.

The man nodded. "You're the psychotherapist?"

"I am, for lack of a better term."

She held out a card toward him. Jaune stared at it only long enough to see her name, then motioned for her to follow him inside. She hesitated before putting the card away; people usually like to examine it thoroughly.

Weiss closed the door behind her once she was over the threshold. She wasn't surprised to see the state of the apartment. Trash was strewn about, the sink was filled with plastic dishes, and what few framed photographs he owned were lying facedown. Judging by the papers, textbooks, and broken pencils scattered all over the tables and floor, she guessed he was a student.

"Something to drink?" Jaune offered, staring into the fridge.

Weiss's eyes roved over two dusty glasses in a cabinet that had been left ajar, and said, "No, thank you. Is there . . . somewhere we can sit?"

Jaune closed the fridge without having taken anything from it, then had the decency to look sheepish. "Oh, right. Sorry."

He cleared off his small dining table before pulling out a chair for her. Weiss only sat down after taking a few seconds to ensure there was no refuse on it. She pulled a pen and pad from her bag and set it in front of her, staring at Jaune as he sat down at the opposite end of the table. He wasn't even trying to fake a happy mien.

"So, in your email, you said you have depression and PTSD?" said Weiss.

Jaune nodded.

"Has that been professionally diagnosed?"

"No."

She picked up her pen and pad. "How long have you been experiencing symptoms?"

Jaune hesitated. "Two years."

She wrote it down. "Major depression doesn't typically last that long, so it's likely dysthymia."

He didn't say anything.

"What—?"

"How long is this going to take?" he interrupted.

Weiss pursed her lips, affronted. "I suppose that's up to you. I work more effectively when I have a proper understanding of exactly what it is I'm dealing with. If it's acceptable to you, I'd like to ask a few questions—"

"It's not. Can't you just . . . wave your hands and get it over with?"

"It's a lot more complicated than that," she said through gritted teeth. "But if you insist, I can try it now, but I can't guarantee success."

"Do it," he said. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Please."

"Fine." Weiss put the pad away and held out her hand. "I need to touch your forehead."

He didn't question it. He leaned forward and closed his eyes, braced as if expecting pain. Weiss placed her fingers above his brow, took a deep breath, then felt her eyes roll back into her head.

She was on her feet now. The apartment was gone, as was Jaune. Trees towered above her, and dry leaves littered the ground beneath her feet. A dark sky loomed overhead, a shattered moon shining brightly. But this forest, vivid though it was, wasn't quite right. The ground was stiff beneath her feet, like she was standing on plastic. The trees had an unnatural uniformity to them. Even Weiss's own hand, which was reaching to her waist for the hilt of a silver rapier, lacked texture and detail.

"Forever Fall," she muttered, a hint of surprise in her voice. It was typically the Emerald Forest that she saw in a person's mind.

Her blade drawn and held at the ready, Weiss waited. She took slow, measured movements, examining her surroundings and listening carefully. She saw nothing, heard nothing. So, she began to walk, using the stars to guide her north.

Weiss remembered her only depression case. It'd been a boy, fifteen, with scars along his arms. His condition had been clinical and taken the form of an Apathy. But Weiss wasn't sure if dysthymia would be any different. Then there was the PTSD, which she'd never encountered before.

Her foot came down and snapped a twig. At that exact moment, the ground shook, so faintly that she almost missed it. Then, off in the distance, a flock of birds rose up from the trees. Picking up the pace, Weiss began to move in that direction. Every three seconds, she could feel another tremor, and they were becoming more noticeable as time went on. And eventually, she could hear their source—large, muffled clops.

Weiss came out into a glade and found her adversary towering over her. She'd guessed what it would be before she even saw it. It was a tar-black figure, decorated with pieces of bone, and glowering in her direction with two sets of glowing red eyes. At first glance, you might confuse it for a man riding a horse, but the "man" had no lower body and was fused to the horse's back. The humanoid had long, dangling arms and a mask with curved horns. The horse's mane was black smoke and its rib cage was exposed. It was one creature, more terrifying than a centaur—Nuckelavee.

Without warning, one of its hands shot out, the arm stretching beyond its already great length to reach her. With faster reactions and greater agility than she could ever have achieved in the real world, Weiss rolled out of the way. She didn't need rigorous training and muscle memory in here; in here, she was a warrior.

She avoided the second hand with a backward somersault, then darted forward and thrust her blade into its wrist. The horse reared and the humanoid let out a blood-curdling screech, withdrawing its arms for another attack. The beast charged toward her, and she dodged at the last second, sending a strike into its flank. Then an arm came down and sent her flying back, but she landed on her feet. Weiss took a stance, ready to evade the next attack. But as the other arm came flying toward her, another scream brought her to her knees.

This was a different scream. It was higher-pitched, less croaky. Instead of being deafeningly loud, this one reverberated around Weiss's head, as if it was seeping directly into her soul, draining her. Her ears started ringing, and her limbs grew heavy. The Nuckelavee's hand grabbed her with no resistance and flung her across the clearing, her back slamming against a tree. But she felt too weak to even cry out.

As she slowly began to recover from this new shriek, the one that hadn't come from the Nuckelavee, the ringing began to lessen. She heard the hooves clopping against the dirt, and rustling coming from several directions, like many pairs of legs trudging through the fallen leaves. And when Weiss looked up, she saw a scene straight out of a nightmare. Dysthymia didn't take the form of an Apathy—it took the form of a _pack_ of Apathy.

As soon as she could manage it, Weiss struggled to her feet, turned, and ran. The Apathy screamed again, but Weiss had sheathed her rapier and stuffed her fingers into her ears. The sound was muffled, but it still slowed her down—but she wasn't crippled. She continued to run, determined to put as much distance as possible between herself and the Grimm. She needed to take a break, regain her wits, and think of a strategy to separate the creatures—they'd be easier to eliminate that way.

Up ahead she saw a hilly region covered in rocks and boulders. She tried to spot if there were any caves near it, which would make a good refuge, but couldn't tell from this distance. Still, a vantage point would be better than nothing. The Apathy shrieked again, but she could barely hear them now.

But before she could reach the hills, she heard something she'd never heard before within a mental landscape—voices. Weiss skidded to a stop and turned toward them. The sound was coming from a window, floating in midair. On the other side of the glass was a single face, the same one from the statue. But this face was made of flesh instead of metal.

"Jaune. I want—"

But Weiss didn't get to hear what she wanted. Weiss was so shocked that she stumbled back, but never hit the ground. The artificial world swirled around her and faded into nothingness, and then she was suddenly back in Jaune's apartment. Her hand fell to the table from where it'd been touching his face, and she was sweating.

"P-Pyrrha," Weiss stammered with the same breath she'd inhaled before going in.

Jaune blanched. "What?"

"That was Pyrrha Nikos. You . . . You knew her?"

He gaped at her. Then his look of fear turned to fury. "You read my mind?"

"No!" said Weiss. "I-I don't . . ."

She couldn't find the right words; she'd lost all composure. Her semblance allowed her to heal people's minds, nothing more. Her mother's semblance allowed her to heal people's minds, nothing more. Why should it change now?

"What did you see?" Jaune demanded.

"Nothing! Just her face. And . . . she said your name. But that's all. I didn't mean to see anything."

He clenched his fists and took a shaky breath, then said, "Get out."

"Excuse me? But I didn't cure you. I can still try again."

"Get out!"

He was on his feet now, his chair knocked flat on its back. Weiss did not cower under his rage, but the guilt clawing at her heart stopped her from lashing back, as she might normally have done. So, calmly, she grabbed her bag, stood, and left without another word.

* * *

As she descended the staircase, Weiss was fuming. One of only two contracts she'd received this week had just gone unfulfilled, and therefore would go unpaid. But she wasn't angry with Jaune, though she _did_ hold a bit of resentment toward him for his sour attitude. Weiss was angry with herself—namely, her stupid semblance. _Why_ did it have to evolve now? Why did it have to evolve in that way? It was already difficult enough to find people willing to pay her to poke around in their minds, and it'd only become more so if potential patients knew she could see their memories.

And it wasn't as if she could hide this development, either. As soon as she reported it to the Civil Anomaly Bureau, as was required by law, they'd issue a new license with it written quite plainly for her clients to see. And they wouldn't all be like Jaune Arc, who only spared the card a single glance.

Weiss was out of the building and proceeding along the sidewalk, too preoccupied with her thoughts to wonder where she was going or hail another cab. There were little to no pedestrians on this street, but she barely even noticed them. Then words she couldn't ignore snaked their way into her ears.

"See? I told you it wasn't blonde. That's gotta be one."

"Probably his daughter."

Weiss glanced across the empty street. The group of men from before hadn't moved. They were all staring at her now, scowls on their faces. She tried to ignore them, continue on her way, but then they jaywalked toward her.

"Hey!" One of the men called after her, not an ounce of friendliness in his tone.

She quickened her gait, hoping to find a crowd of people to blend into, but there was no one. And then they were on her. Rough hands whipped her around and then pinned her shoulders to the wall.

"It's not polite to ignore people who are tryna talk to ya, _Schnee_." His face was covered in scars, and he stared at her with profound loathing. Three other thugs stood behind him, looking equally mean.

"I thought you were talking to someone else," Weiss lied, trying to keep a look of dignity about her.

"Who else would we be talking to?" said one of the thugs.

"If you don't let me go—"

"You'll what?" said the scarred man. "Daddy's not around no more to keep you out of trouble, now is he?"

"I am—"

"You're nothing!" he spat.

Weiss flinched.

"You're nothing but the spoiled brat of a disgraced CEO."

"If you hate my father, then what do you want with me? Is his imprisonment not enough for you?"

Scar smacked her, his other hand still pressing her against the wall. She heard chuckles from the others. After Weiss blinked away the pain, she saw the man had drawn out a knife. One of the other thugs was rubbing his hands together in excitement, and another was making suggestions about where Scar should put it.

The color drained from Weiss's face as the rest of her courage left her. Her eyes couldn't leave the clean, razor-sharp blade. Her heart began beating faster and faster in her chest. Her hand had the impulse to reach toward her hip, but she couldn't move it. Not that it mattered. There was no rapier there; she wasn't a warrior. She was just a defenseless woman with a semblance that could do little more than aggravate her attackers.

"My face isn't pretty, is it?" said Scar. "Wanna know what happened?"

Weiss didn't say anything.

He gently touched the tip of the blade to her forehead. "I worked for the STC, see? Me and my brother were on the assembly line. 'Til one day a machine malfunctioned, killed my brother, and left me with this ugly mug. An' you know what _daddy_ did? He paid Ronnie's funeral, left me drowning in medical bills, and he fuckin' _fired me!_ "

Weiss chose not to say the words that had almost reached her lips—that she was no more a fan of Jacques Schnee's than he was. That her life had also been ruined by her father's actions. That she was also missing a brother because of him. But she knew how little that information would help her current situation. The thugs would probably even revel in it.

"I'm sor—ah!" Her apology was literally cut short. Her knee came up, seemingly of its own accord, right between the man's legs. The pressure lifted off her shoulder, and her hands came up to her left eye. Her face was searing in pain, a warm liquid running down it.

"Bitch!" Scar yelled, on the ground, his voice an octave higher than before.

One of the others helped him to his feet while the other two closed in, blocking her from running.

"One scar won't do, I think," one said.

Scar smiled malevolently, though the effect was hampered by his awkward, bow-legged stance. "I think you're right. How 'bout I keep going 'till your pretty face starts looking a lot more like mine?" He raised the knife again and took another step forward. But then all three men whipped around as a loud _thunk_ sounded behind them. A sword was aimed in their direction, its owner an armored figure that suddenly stood in the street, the asphalt cracked under their boots.

"But . . . Y-you're dead!" one of the thugs sputtered as soon as the shock wore off.

"Legends never die," said the newcomer with a digitally-distorted voice. They were fully clad in high-tech armor, a shield strapped to one arm and a helmet hiding their face—not an inch of skin was visible. It was the same gear sculpted on the statue.

The three goons tried to run, but the Protector was already on top of them. The sword swept two off their feet, and the shield slammed another against the building. Then three ropes sprang from the vigilante's belt to bind them completely. The armored hero turned back to Weiss to discover that Scar hadn't tried to run—he was holding Weiss in front of him with the knife to her neck, both blood and agony pouring from her wound. She was struggling to pull his arm away from her, but he was too strong.

The vigilante pointed the sword in their direction.

"Stay back!" Scar shouted, his fear evident. "I'll kill her! The whore has it coming!"

Then—Weiss couldn't see how it happened—the knife flew from Scar's grasp. He collapsed on top of her while trying to hold on to it. She heard a heavy object drop, and a second later, she felt her assailant's weight lift off of her, shortly followed by a hard thud. Weiss pushed herself to her knees and clutched her bleeding eye again. She looked up and saw all four men bound next to each other, their mouths gagged. The vigilante's sword was lying on the ground next to her, a thin rope connecting the tip of the blade to Scar's knife. An armored hand reached down and picked it up.

"Thank you," Weiss said, staring up at her savior.

"Paramedic's on the way," was their only response. Then, with an impossible leap, the mysterious stranger landed on the roof of a building and vanished from sight.

* * *

Weiss hated hospitals. The incessant beeping, that distinct smell in the air, and the way the taste of popsicle sticks lingered in her mouth even though the doctor hadn't looked at her throat. It was all so familiar that she might have been a child again, visiting her grandfather with her mother and siblings back in Atlas. And the way everything was so perfectly clean and pristine was also reminiscent, but of the old family manor. It was crazy how this building she'd never been to before was able to elicit so many unpleasant memories.

As Weiss was lying in bed, watching an old sitcom that she didn't quite see the appeal of—there was nothing better to do—the door to her room opened. From the corner of her eye, she saw someone dressed in white enter. She assumed it was the nurse, so paid her no mind.

"Weiss." The voice was so uncharacteristically soft that Weiss almost didn't recognize it. When she did, her head snapped toward the speaker to find not a nurse, but her sister looking down at her.

She had the same white hair as Weiss, tied back into a bun, and wore an officer's uniform. Weiss was too surprised to say anything right away. And before she got the chance, Winter was descending on her and embracing her in a tight hug. Two seconds later, Weiss hugged her back. Her lip was quivering. But despite her jumbled, painkiller-addled mind, she didn't cry.

The siblings stayed like that for a full minute until Winter pulled away. She tried to resume her usual professional demeanor, but the concern didn't disappear from her face.

"Why are you here?" Weiss asked.

"I'm still your emergency contact. Where else would I be?" Her tone was back to being strict and snappy, which made Weiss smile.

"But what about the military?"

"My sister was attacked. They can do without me for a day. Now enough about me. How are you feeling?"

Weiss raised her fingers to her bandaged face. The eye itself was uninjured, but a deep gash ran in a neat line above and below it, currently sutured. "It . . . stings."

"Of course it does. You know that's not what I meant."

Weiss took a moment to think of her answer. She couldn't meet her sister's gaze as she said it in a small voice. "I don't think I've ever been so scared."

Winter sat down at Weiss's side and squeezed her hand. "Describe to me what happened."

Weiss almost refused, but then decided that it wasn't fair to leave her sister with a vague idea while the police had a detailed retelling. She started with exiting the apartment building, leaving out her failure of a contract and the evolution of her semblance, and stopped with the paramedics' arrival. When she was finished, she found she didn't feel any different. People say to talk about your problems, but this proved ineffective. She could still vividly recall the fear she'd felt, the vehement pounding of her heart as if it knew each beat could have been its last. Not for the first time, she found herself wishing she could dive into her own mind.

And the hatred. That was the worse part. The way the scarred man's eyes bored into her with pure, unadulterated loathing. _"The whore has it coming!"_ he'd said. She deserved this wound; she deserved more wounds. Just because her hair was white.

"You should have run as soon as they began to approach you," Winter scolded.

"I was in heels!"

"Then you should have lied. You should have denied being a Schnee and said your hair is dyed."

"They wouldn't have believed me."

"You don't know that!"

Weiss bowed her head, ashamed. She _could_ have done more. She shouldn't have needed a superhero to drop from the sky to save her. If the Protector of Vale, or whoever was wearing her armor, hadn't shown up . . . Weiss couldn't bring herself to complete the thought.

"You _need_ to be more careful, Weiss," said Winter. "Your life's already difficult enough, being a paragon. You don't need the added challenges of being a Schnee. There are plenty of people unhappy with Father's sentence"

"Don't you think I know that?" Weiss retorted. "Haven't I just received a _sharp_ reminder of that fact?"

Winter sighed. "It was your choice to move to Vale. I can't protect you here."

"I don't need your protection!" Even as she said it, her wound gave her a twinge of pain that made her wince. "So what do you want me to do, exactly?"

Winter took a moment to reply. "I have to be on the next plane back to Atlas. But I want you to call me tomorrow. And you're to take some time to recover from your injury. That means to stay at home; don't go anywhere. You can get your groceries delivered."

"But I can't! I have another contract—"

"Then you'll reschedule! Ten days. I won't ask for more than that. I'll give you some money to get by."

"What? No! I can't let you do that!"

"You can and you will! I've already covered your hospital bills. I know you're struggling. And without the family fortune, _I'm_ your safety net, and I expect you to use it. Understood?"

Weiss tried to fight her gaze, but failed. "Understood."

Half an hour later, Winter gave her one last hug and then left. Weiss pulled out her scroll and was surprised to see an unread message from her brother. She thought he'd have changed his number by now with how determined he'd been to distance himself after their father's arrest.

The message read: _Hello, Sister. I'm sorry to hear what happened to you. I wish you a swift recovery. -Whitley_

Weiss read it twice. It was a simple message, but a meaningful gesture. Perhaps he did care after all.

But how did he know? Weiss stared at the door Winter had just disappeared through. Had she told him? It didn't seem likely, but Weiss couldn't think of any other explanation. Whitley had ignored Weiss's few attempts to contact him. Why would he answer Winter, who he hated?

Weiss pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She responded to her brother with an equally simple thank you message and then pulled up her email. There was nothing new in her inbox. She tapped on the most recent thread so she could change the appointment. As she scrolled to the bottom, her eyes skimmed over the first two lines of the original email.

_Patient: Ruby Rose_

_Affliction: Insomnia_


	2. V1C2: Ruby Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my beta readers on FF.net: I Write Big, 0neWhoWanders, and Bardothren. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.

Weiss had a growing list of luxuries she'd taken for granted. Surprisingly high on that list was the availability of a quality heated towel in the bathroom. She preferred her showers on the colder side, just below lukewarm. To be able to step out and dry her skin with a warm, soft towel was a simple luxury, but one of great pleasure. Unfortunately, her cotton ones had been lost at the airport when she moved away from Atlas. Worse still, her landlord refused to fix the bathroom radiator.

As Weiss stepped in front of the mirror, wrapped in a cheap, unheated towel, her sour mood did not improve. The wound that ran from above her left eye down to her cheek was healing, the stitches gone, but it still looked nasty. There'd be a permanent scar there—the doctors hadn't bothered to sugarcoat that fact. Forever on her skin, a reminder of how far her family has fallen.

She ran her fingers through her wet hair, savoring it. That was the one thing she'd always taken pride in, the thing that made her special regardless of her family's wealth and status. Stunning, naturally snow-white hair. Now even that was being taken away from her.

She picked up one of the two identical boxes she'd left on the sink. On the cover was a woman with long, impossibly shiny black locks. "Schwarz" was written at the bottom in large, bold text. Weiss's eyes glanced to the trashcan where she so wanted to dump both boxes. Instead, she flipped the one in her hand over and began to read the instructions. In just a manner of hours, there'd officially no longer be any Schnees in Vale.

* * *

Weiss sat at her desk with her newly darkened hair still damp, staring down at a notebook. There were several pages in it dedicated to different types of Grimm and which mental illnesses they were the manifestations of, the most recent detailing the Nuckelavee and PTSD. But the pages she spent the most time poring over contained her theories and attempts to connect patterns between phenomena she'd experienced inside mental landscapes. Until Jaune Arc, she'd thought she had it all mostly figured out, was getting close to claiming mastery over her semblance. But now everything was back up in the air again.

Semblances are poorly understood and always unpredictable. Weiss knew that. But she'd thought that since her mother had the same semblance, she could expect hers to stay consistent. But it had to go and prove her wrong. Apparently, now she could randomly appear in Forever Fall instead of the Emerald Forest. She didn't know what to make of that. There had to be some kind of factor that caused it. But other than the window, she couldn't find any differences that stood out between Jaune Arc's case and those of her previous clients.

The window—Weiss didn't even want to explore that yet. Part of her didn't want to acknowledge that it had happened at all. Of all the abilities her semblance could develop, it just had to be one that would repel all future clients. Was it too much to ask to be able to pay her bills and help people at the same time?

The microwave beeped. Weiss closed her notebook and shoved it into a drawer, where it'd likely stay for a while. It wasn't like she was making any progress without further data, which she couldn't get while in recovery.

She collected her food from the microwave and began sadly dishing it out onto a proper plate setting—it was about as close as she could get to fine dining these days. Back home, she'd been able to expect three chef-cooked meals a day, with dessert as an option. Dinner always came with a glass of wine, though she'd usually only take a sip or two. Living on her own, she had frozen mush and water.

Admittedly, "mush" was a tad unfair. There was no other word to describe the mashed potatoes, sure, but the peas and meat were alright. If Weiss was being honest, she didn't outright hate processed foods, despite having avoided them like the plague for most of her life. They were quick and easy to prepare, and they tasted fine. But every bite was a reminder of the lifestyle that had been ripped away from her. She'd much rather be back at Schnee Manor, sharing a quality meal with company, despite who said company was.

Weiss stared down at her mediocre food, mindlessly poking at it with her fork while recalling the last meal she'd shared with her family. It'd been a year ago, just a few months before her father had been exposed for years of corporate fraud. She'd been home for the summer and it was just herself, Whitley, and their father at the table, as normal. They'd held a conversation about nothing in between long stretches of silence. Whitley behaved as coldly as ever and their father made several remarks about her decision to drop out of business school four years prior. It was exactly the same as every other meal she'd attended while staying at home, three times a day, every day.

A week after that, when she was eating alone in her dorm, she found herself confusingly missing those family sit-downs, even with the absence of her mother and sister. Just like now, when she rarely ever dined with company. Because despite the dysfunction of it all and the fact that it was the man who'd destroyed her grandfather's legacy at the table with her, Weiss somehow preferred it to being alone.

* * *

Weiss was starting to think her luck was turning around. A motorcycle vacated a parking space just as she was pulling up to her destination, so she happily took it. She stepped out of her car, a used model in decent condition, and locked the doors. The entrance to the building she'd come here for was barely ten feet to her right. Inside she found an elevator, which was extra fortunate because her client lived on an upper floor.

After ringing the bell, Weiss hardly had to wait for the apartment door to open. The occupant was a girl with short, black hair highlighted with streaks of red, as well as a pair of dazzling silver eyes. Her appearance did not lend credence to the fact that she was only two years younger than Weiss.

"Wow," said the girl.

Weiss raised an eyebrow. "Wow?"

"Oh! Sorry. You just . . . look a lot different than I expected. You're the psycho . . . thingy? I'm Ruby." She extended her hand.

Weiss shook it. "Psychotherapist. My name is Weiss."

"Nice to meet you. Come in!" Ruby smiled and turned back into the apartment. "Uh, you can have a seat on the couch."

Weiss followed her in and closed the door. She took a look around the apartment—it was a huge step up from Jaune Arc's. Not only was it far cleaner and more organized, but it was also a lot bigger and classier. There was no way someone Ruby's age could afford it on their own.

Weiss sat down while Ruby continued into the kitchen. The TV had been left on. The screen was taken up by a pause menu for some kind of video game, and a lit-up controller was sitting on the coffee table next to some scattered comic books.

"What do you want to drink?" Ruby called. "Juice, tea, coffee?"

"I'll take some coffee, thank you. Black."

"I don't know how you can drink it like that," Ruby commented a minute later as she handed Weiss her mug and sat down in a lounge chair.

Weiss took a cautious sip. It was warm, but not hot. "I just have more refined tastes."

Ruby shrugged as she dropped five sugar cubes into her own mug, which looked to have already been diluted by cream. Weiss watched her take a drink, slightly repulsed. She was so distracted by this that it took her a few moments to notice how alert Ruby seemed for someone suffering from insomnia. Her cheeks weren't sunken, her eyes bore no bags, and her voice betrayed no hints of exhaustion. She looked perfectly normal—energetic, even.

Concluding that she'd just caught Ruby on a good day, Weiss decided not to bring it up. "So . . . Was it my eye?"

"Hm?" said Ruby.

"You said I wasn't what you were expecting. Was it my eye?"

"Er, no. Actually, that was the least surprising part."

Weiss frowned. "How so?"

"Well, you fiddle with people's minds! I thought you'd be like a . . . you know, a witch doctor or something."

Weiss stared. "A witch doctor."

"Yeah. So I was surprised to see you're so young and . . . elegant."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you. I carry myself with pride and dignity."

Ruby snickered.

"What?" Weiss said defensively.

"Sorry. I just didn't think people actually talked like that."

"Like _what_?"

Ruby sat up straighter and stuck out the pinky holding her mug. Then she said in an overly posh accent, "Oh, I'm her royal highness, Weiss the psychotherapist. I carry myself with _pride_ and _dignity_."

"Hey!"

Ruby snickered again.

Weiss scowled. "If you're done mocking me, then perhaps we can get started."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I couldn't help myself. So, uh . . . how does this work?"

"First, I'm required to show you this." Weiss placed her mug on a coaster and dug into her bag. She pulled out her card and showed it to Ruby, but held it in a way that her finger covered her last name.

Ruby spent a few seconds reading it, then said, "Okay."

"Insomnia doesn't typically require this kind of treatment," said Weiss, her card stowed away and a pad in hand. "If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you some questions to better understand what it is you're suffering from."

"Ask away."

"Have you been professionally diagnosed?"

"Well, not really. I can't sleep. I don't need a doctor to tell me that."

Weiss wrote it down. "How long has this been going on?"

"A while."

"That doesn't help. Can you give me a timeframe?"

Ruby scratched her head shiftily. "No. I don't know. It's just been a long time, you know?"

Weiss sighed. "Have you tried sleeping medication, sedatives?"

"Yeah. They don't work on me."

"What about changing your sleeping habits? Or behavioral therapy?"

"Nothing works."

"Do you have any other illness that could be causing you to have problems sleeping?"

She shook her head.

"How many nights a week do you have troubles sleeping?"

"Seven."

Weiss paused. "Can you be more descriptive with the symptoms you're experiencing?"

"I can't sleep," Ruby said simply.

Weiss waited, but the silver-eyed girl said nothing more. "I said be descriptive."

"I can't sleep. I don't know what else you want me to say. I just can't sleep."

Weiss stared at what she had written down, her tongue between her teeth and foot tapping against the floor. She was silent so long that Ruby had to speak up.

"Er, is there anything else you need to ask?"

"No," Weiss answered distractedly. It was several more seconds before she spoke again. "This is definitely unusual."

"But you _can_ fix it, though . . . right?"

"I won't guarantee anything, but I think I should be able to. My best guess is that you have a unique, much more severe form of insomnia. I've not heard of a case that completely resists all forms of treatment."

Ruby didn't appear fazed by this. "But can you fix it?"

"I'll try. I'll need you to be closer, though."

Without hesitation, Ruby hopped off her chair and proceeded to plop herself down next to her.

Weiss blinked. "Um, right. Are you ready?"

"Yep. Have at me, doc."

"I'm not a doctor."

"Wait, really?"

"I have a master's in psychology. I didn't need a doctorate for the CAB to license me to sell my semblance."

"Oh."

"Now, are you ready?" Weiss repeated impatiently.

"Mhm!"

Weiss touched her face, inhaled a flowery scent, and slipped into another world.

* * *

It was the same as before. She now stood outdoors surrounded by trees, everything having an almost cartoonish appearance to it. The difference was the colors. The sky was now a bright blue, and just about everything else was green, from the grassy earth to the luscious leaves. She was back in the Emerald Forest.

Weiss smiled as she drew her rapier, allowing herself to hope for a return to normalcy. It was possible that seeing Jaune's memory had just been a fluke, caused by the fragile emotional state he was in. Perhaps she wouldn't have to waste the CAB's time after all.

She took a minute to observe her surroundings, searching for whatever Grimm Ruby's insomnia would manifest as. When nothing attacked, she took a few tentative steps forward and then tried to determine which way was north. Unfortunately, upon studying the shadow of a tree, she discovered that the sun wasn't moving. Weiss convinced herself that that didn't mean anything and chose a random direction to walk in.

Her feet carried her far. She tried to keep focused, but the longer she walked without seeing or hearing any kind of disturbance, the more her mind began to wander. She went over all the Grimm she'd encountered so far, what their corresponding ailment was, and which ones she had yet to see. A Nevermore seemed fitting. She glanced at the sky but saw nothing. She strained her ears for a piercing caw, but she heard only the rustling of leaves in the wind. And a voice.

Weiss stopped, but didn't dare move her head. A few short words, too faint to even make out. She'd imagined it, surely. That thing with Jaune had been a fluke—she'd just established that. There's no way it could be—

"Yang got the promotion yesterday." It was unmistakably Ruby's voice.

Weiss's heart dropped into her stomach. She looked to her right and saw proof that she'd been deluding herself. There, hovering ten feet away, was a window just like before. Weiss, her curiosity getting the better of her, approached.

"She and Blake both passed the exam, just like you did. I know you'd be really proud of her."

Through the glass, Weiss saw a grave. Leaning against it was a photograph of a woman who looked a lot like Ruby, but older and more mature. According to the inscription, her name was Summer Rose, and she died two years ago. The window went dark for a moment as Ruby brought her hand up to wipe tears from her eyes, accompanied by a sniffling sound.

Abruptly, Weiss turned heel and marched away. Her knuckles were white from gripping her sword so tightly.

"Where are you?" she shouted into the sky, for all the good it did. The forest was as still and silent as ever.

Weiss pressed forward, hunting for her adversary. The next time a memory cropped up, she ignored it. It wasn't her place to go snooping around in here. She shouldn't have seen the first one.

What felt like hours passed, and still she saw no Grimm. Weiss passed four windows in total, four aggravating squares that seemed determined to show her the private memories she had no right to see. By the time she stumbled onto the ruined palace, to say she was annoyed would be an understatement.

She flicked her rapier through the air, and it passed cleanly through a crumbling pillar, shearing off a sizeable chunk of it. She sat down amidst the rubble and began to count down from a hundred in her head, taking deep, steady breaths. It'd never taken her this long to hunt down an affliction before. If she reached zero and still hadn't been attacked, she'd have to accept that Ruby simply didn't have one.

By the time she'd finished counting, her irritation had mostly alleviated. She took one last deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was back in the apartment, her fingers still on Ruby's forehead. Weiss lowered her hand and scooted away from her, but Ruby still looked to be waiting in anticipation.

"There's nothing I can do for you," Weiss lamented.

Ruby looked confused. "What? I thought you said you would try."

"I just did."

"But . . . nothing happened."

"That's what I'm saying. You don't have any mental illnesses; therefore, there's nothing for me to cure."

"What? No. You made a mistake or something. You only touched my head for like a second. You must have—"

"Don't dare to presume how my semblance works," Weiss warned. "I'm telling you, your troubles sleeping aren't caused by a mental disorder. I can't help you, and that's all there is to it."

"Please! You have to try again." The desperation was plain in her voice. "You're the only one who can help me!"

"See a doctor. The only other cause I could think of would be a physical abnormality on the brain itself."

"It's not that."

Weiss frowned. "Have you had a scan done?"

"No. But . . ." Ruby was wringing her hands together, then suddenly threw them up in exasperation. "I don't care what CAB says! It _has_ to be curable!"

"Cab?" Weiss took a moment to comprehend what she'd said, then her eyes narrowed. "The _CAB_?"

A look of horror dawned on Ruby's face.

"You're a _paragon_?" said Weiss.

"No! CAB thinks I am, but they're wrong. I know they are. There _has_ to be some way I can sleep!"

The pieces clicked together inside Weiss's mind. Ruby's dodgy answers, her immunity to sleep medication, and her lack of visible symptoms—they were all starting to make sense.

"Ruby," Weiss said, having to actively keep her voice steady. "When you say you 'can't sleep', what _exactly_ do you mean by that?"

Ruby bowed her head. "I've never been able to sleep. I've been awake my whole life. I thought that you—your semblance—would be able to finally help me."

Weiss shot to her feet. " _Why_ didn't you tell me you're a paragon? I can't cure a semblance, Ruby!"

"Because I'm not! I refuse to believe it's a semblance."

"It is! You just said it. The Civil Anomaly Bureau doesn't make mistakes. If they say you're a paragon, then you're a paragon. Remember that the next time you decide to waste someone's time!" Weiss collected her things and stormed toward the exit.

"Wait! No, I can still—"

Weiss slammed the door, cutting her short, and made for the elevator. That was two failed contracts in a row. She had more appointments built up from her ten-day hiatus, so losing one didn't hurt as much, but she was still angry. She really needed to reconsider charging in advance if this was to become a pattern.

Weiss exited the building and found her car right where she'd left it. She'd already closed the door and put the key in the ignition when she noticed something. A small piece of paper had been slipped under her windshield wiper. Slowly, she looked toward the curb and saw a sign she hadn't noticed upon arrival.

_Reserved Parking Only_

Weiss allowed herself one, very undignified scream of pent-up frustration.


	3. V1C3: Rehabilitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my beta readers: 0neWhoWanders, Bardothren, and I Write Big on FF.net. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.

Weiss descended the courthouse steps, relieved that she finally got to go home. She'd just had to testify against one of the miscreants who'd attacked her. She should have felt vindictive against those men, eager to help in ensuring guilty verdicts. But being forced to relive that experience and be in the same room with them again wasn't worth it. More than anything, she just wanted to put the entire ordeal behind her. The one who'd actually wielded the knife had pleaded guilty, which saved her the torment of seeing _his_ deformed face again, at the very least. It was too bad that not all of them were so compliant.

As she neared the sidewalk, Weiss noticed a pair of pale red eyes watching her. The man was tall with slicked-back dark hair and leaned against a black car, a tilted cross dangling from his neck on a silver chain. His gaze showed recognition.

Weiss froze, suddenly nervous, suspecting that he knew exactly who she was. Given the last time she'd been identified on the street, she had the impulse to put as much distance between herself and him as possible. But before she got the chance to even turn around, one of the tinted windows rolled down just enough to reveal a bespectacled face she'd seen on the news. Her wariness now replaced by confusion, she approached, and the window rolled back up.

"Hmm," the stranger said. "Same eyes. You're definitely her sister."

"You know Winter?" said Weiss.

"We've met. Now get in the car. Oz wants a word."

"About what?"

He shrugged. "Ask him. Hurry up; he's a busy man."

Deciding it to be unwise to retort, Weiss held her tongue and slid into the backseat, directly opposite a gray-haired man in a green scarf. There was a cane on the seat beside him and he held a steaming mug in his hands, but the air was absent of the distinct scent of coffee.

"Weiss Schnee," said Mayor Ozpin. "You've dyed your hair."

"I did," was all Weiss could think to say. She was strangely intimidated. She had met political figures in the past when her father invited them to dinner, but this was different. That calculating look in his eyes—it was as if he knew every last thing about her.

"I must apologize for my associate's abrasiveness. In truth, my schedule is very much open for the rest of the day."

"How does he know my sister?"

"You can say they were colleagues, at least at one point. As I'm sure you're aware, Vale fell victim to a siege two years ago. We worked closely alongside the military to clean up the aftermath. Winter Schnee was among those sent to help re-establish order."

"Oh, right." The statue came to mind again, the one she had still yet to see up close. "The day she died . . ."

Ozpin nodded sadly. "Indeed. Her sacrifice saved countless lives. Pyrrha Nikos was, by all accounts, a hero."

Weiss had been in class when it happened, back in Atlas. She hadn't learned about it until they'd been dismissed, and every student in the hallways was suddenly glued to their scrolls and muttering about an attack. When Weiss pulled up her own, she found every media site reporting the same thing—a mechanized army was assaulting Vale. No one knew who they were or where they came from. It was entirely out of the blue.

In the days following the attack, the full story came out. Their leader had been a woman named Salem, who built up a massive underground organization capable of taking control of an entire city in a single day. That's what she did to Vacuo—murdered all city officials, raided police departments, and staged mass breakouts at the penitentiaries, enlisting the convicts into her army. But she hadn't done any of that until all communications towers had been sabotaged. Word of what happened never reached the military until Salem was already leading her forces to Vale, where she met her death.

"Mr. Mayor," Weiss said tentatively, "can I ask you something?"

"Of course. As I've said, I have nowhere else to be."

"I've read about your views on vigilantism."

"Ah. Yes. Naturally, you'll be opposed to them, given your recent experience."

"I suppose so . . ."

"But you had a question?"

"Right. It's just . . . You said you'd pardon Pyrrha if she was still alive. But what about the person who saved me? The one who's impersonating her?"

"Well, firstly, I think your use of 'impersonating' isn't completely fair. I believe this new Protector is merely trying to carry on her legacy."

"And secondly?"

"Secondly, they are still breaking the law, and are therefore a criminal. There's only one stance to be had on criminals."

"How can you say that?"

Ozpin sipped his drink. "Miss Schnee, I don't say 'hero' lightly. Pyrrha Nikos was a hero. This new Protector did a heroic act in saving you. But that does not mean we should readily give them our trust. Police officers are trained and tested, both mentally and physically, to protect and serve the citizens of their city. A vigilante is a wildcard who we know next to nothing about that doesn't acknowledge the law. Most are wannabe heroes with little competence; we arrest them for their own safety. But one with capabilities akin to those of Pyrrha Nikos is a danger we cannot allow to operate uncontrolled. At any moment, they can go from playing the superhero to playing the villain. That is not a risk I'm willing to take."

"But what if it was Pyrrha who rescued me?"

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible. Her body was retrieved from the wreckage and delivered to her family in Argus."

"But what if it wasn't? If she were somehow still alive and acting as a vigilante, what would you do then?"

Ozpin took a long sip from his mug before answering. "A pardon forgives past transgressions. It does not grant immunity from the law."

"So you'd arrest her?" Weiss said disbelievingly.

"No. We wouldn't. We'd _try_."

She didn't know how to respond to that. A silence ensued while she stared at her fingers, interlocked in her lap. The way he talked, the tone of his voice—it made it difficult to disagree with him. But, obviously, Ozpin was wrong . . . right? If he had his wish for the world, then who would have saved her?

"Your injury seems to be healing up nicely," the mayor finally said.

Her hand instinctively went up to her left eye. "For the most part. It doesn't hurt all that much, anymore."

"And how are you faring?" He paused. "Mentally?"

She watched him suspiciously. "Is that why you came here? Just to see how I'm doing?"

"No. I sought you out on city business. But I've always been rather fond of an idle chat."

"Well I'm faring fine, thank you."

"And financially?"

Weiss pretended not to have heard. "What business do you have with me, might I ask? My family doesn't have much influence these days."

"I didn't seek you out because you were the only Schnee in this city. What I'm interested in is something that you and you alone can provide—your services as a psychotherapist."

She shouldn't have been shocked, but she was. "How did you know about that? I didn't put my name on the ads."

"A good mayor is well versed in the goings-on of his city."

She waited.

"I'm privy to the secrets of a certain bureau," he elaborated.

"Oh."

"Councilwoman Goodwitch has written a bill that allocates more funds toward the rehabilitation of convicted criminals. Yesterday it passed four votes to one. There is some leeway there that would cover your fee, if we can reach an agreement."

"You want to pay me to heal prisoners?"

"Correct."

Weiss hesitated. "Excuse me if I'm overstepping, but that doesn't exactly seem like the wisest use of taxpayers' lien."

Ozpin took a sip and appeared momentarily contemplative. "Atlas, despite having one of the lowest crime rates in Remnant, has an abnormally high recidivism rate. Why do you think that is?"

"I'm not sure."

"It's because their prisons neglect rehabilitation, in favor of putting excessive emphasis on prisoner detainment. It is my firm belief that the primary purpose of a correctional facility is right there in the name—to correct inmates' behavior, not punish them."

She crossed her legs and frowned thoughtfully.

"I've spoken with Mayor Hill," said Ozpin, "and she's in agreement with me. Unfortunately, General Ironwood is in charge of Atlas's penitentiaries and is quite set in his ways. But I _do_ have a say in how those in Vale are run, and I mean to do everything in my power to minimize the crime in my city. Perhaps then people will see that there truly is no need for vigilantes, though I suspect that that is too optimistic to hope for."

"That's your aim, then? Reducing vigilantism?"

"My aim is to do what's in the best interest of Vale, always. Stopping vigilantes is part of that, but not where my focus currently lies."

Weiss bit her tongue and stared out the window, where she could still see people shuffling in and out of the courthouse. She didn't believe that arresting people like the Protector of Vale was at all in the city's best interest.

"So, might you be interested in my proposal?" Ozpin asked.

She hesitated. "You honestly think that me healing convicts' mental illnesses will lower crime rates?"

"Perhaps not drastically. But if you stop one criminal from reverting to bad habits, then it's a job well done and one worth doing."

"How many would I be treating?"

"Unless you have objections, as many as consent."

Weiss opened her mouth to answer and was about to look back at the mayor, but then caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. A man with familiar blonde hair and a backpack over one shoulder was disappearing into the courthouse. While she was distracted wondering whether that was who she thought it was, Ozpin seemed to grow impatient and cleared his throat.

"Sorry," she said, meeting the mayor's eyes. "I'll do it."

"Excellent," Ozpin said with a smile.

* * *

"Is this really necessary?" Weiss asked uncomfortably.

"We have a protocol. The mayor vouching for you doesn't exempt you from it," said the warden, a burly man with a short posture.

"She's clear," said the prison guard after she finished patting Weiss down.

"Can I have my bag back now?" Weiss asked.

"No personal possessions around the inmates," said the warden. "You can have it back when you leave."

"But what about my card?"

"What card?"

"My license from the CAB. I have to show it to all my clients."

"Why?"

"Because I don't intend on coming back here in a jumpsuit," Weiss said impatiently. "It's legally required of me."

"Fine. You can have the card. Lark." The warden gestured to one of his men. The guard named Lark stepped forward and extended Weiss's bag to her. She snatched it away and dug out her license, then hesitantly handed it back.

"All set?" the warden asked.

"Yes," said Weiss.

"Good. This way." He set off down a hallway.

Weiss followed a pace behind him. "So how many convicts am I treating?"

"Five."

A smile crept onto her lips. Five guaranteed jobs—that was more than she usually got in a week. On top of that, she had two more contracts outside the prison. With that plus the minimal restitution she was receiving for her hospital fees, she might be able to pay her sister back _and_ keep up with her expenses—and Winter would accept the money even if Weiss had to force her to.

"And they've all been pre-diagnosed?" Weiss asked.

"By a licensed psychiatrist, yes," the warden answered. "And they've all signed contracts approved by Mayor Ozpin himself, which are in line with Goodwitch's bill."

"And the mayor informed you that it might be beyond my capabilities to do all five in one day, correct?"

"Correct."

They continued on for another minute, passing a handful of guards and other staff members who ignored Weiss or gave courteous nods. At one point, they walked by a window through which she could see prisoners roaming in the courtyard. And for a moment, she could picture her father out there with them, utterly unprepared for life at the bottom of the barrel. She smirked at the thought. But she wouldn't be seeing her father today as he was imprisoned in a different city, not that she was complaining.

The warden stopped by a closed door and turned to face Weiss. "Who do you want to see first? Think you stomach a psychopath right away, or want to save him for last?"

Weiss was surprised. "Someone with psychopathy actually consented to this?"

"Yes. Don't worry—you'll have a pair of my men in the room."

"Well . . . I suppose it doesn't matter," she said with feigned confidence. "I'll treat him first."

"Fine. Head inside. We'll bring him along."

Weiss stepped through the door and found a small room with nothing but a table and two chairs inside, as well as a camera in the corner. She sat facing the door and waited, playing with her card as she prepared herself to meet an actual psychopath.

A few minutes passed, and then the door opened, admitting three men inside. Two wore uniforms and the third was dressed all in orange, shackles binding his hands and feet. He was, in all, underwhelming. He had a scrawny build and curly hair, and stared at her with inquisitive brown eyes. The man looked completely normal, which actually made him even scarier.

The prisoner said nothing as he sat in the remaining chair. One of the guards connected his chains to his seat while the other walked over to Weiss, speaking in a low voice. He gave her the inmate's name and informed her he was diagnosed with both psychopathy and kleptomania. Then both guards stepped back to flank the door, and all three watched her expectantly.

"My name is Weiss." She decided it was best to introduce herself.

"Let's make this fast, darling." The convict smiled. "I'm brimming with excitement."

Weiss gulped. "Alright." She wiped her sweaty palm on her shirt and then showed him the card, her last name once again carefully obstructed. "You just need to read this first."

His hand made a jerking movement as if he wanted to grab it, but his restraints prevented him from doing so. After a few seconds, his eyes moved from the card to meet hers, and she took that to mean he'd finished.

"Are you ready, then?" she asked.

"I said to make it fast, didn't I?" he said.

"I'll need to touch your forehead."

"Touch whatever you like, sweetheart."

Weiss cringed. Nevertheless, she reached a shaky hand toward his face. She hesitated, worried he might bite her, then closed the gap and lightly met her fingers to his temple. One deep breath later and she was back in the Emerald Forest.

As usual, she immediately drew her rapier and took a second to look around. The reason she'd developed this habit soon became apparent, as a roar shook the forest and a creature came barreling toward her. Like all Grimm, it had a body as black as coal that was accented by bone plating. This one took the form of a giant scorpion, a golden stinger hanging from its tail.

A hasty backward somersault brought her out of range of said stinger as it came shooting toward her. The creature scuttled after her, snapping its pincers at her legs and forcing her to keep retreating. Weiss was eyeing its weak points, trying to figure out the best way to get a solid strike in. At the same time, she kept her ears trained and was watching the woods behind the Death Stalker, wondering where the Geist—kleptomania—was.

She chanced a glance behind her and saw a tree off in the distance, thick enough to withstand an attack. She turned and ran toward it through the dense woods, hearing lesser trees fall to the Death Stalker's claws as it continued its pursuit of her. As soon as she reached her target, she placed her back to its trunk and took a stance. The Grimm roared once more as it closed in on her. As she'd hoped, it attacked with its tail. She dodged out of the way at the last second, and the stinger sank deep into the wood.

Weiss circled around, avoiding the snap of one of its pincers, as the beast failed to dislodge itself. Angrily, it began to hack away at the tree, sending chunks of bark flying. Knowing she only had seconds before it recovered its maneuverability, she placed several quick jabs into its unarmored backside. Wisps of black smoke emanated from every puncture.

In its fury, the Death Stalker forgot about the tree and whirled around, twisting its tail unnaturally. It reared up on its back four legs and tried to get at her, but Weiss was out of its reach. She held her sword at the ready and prepared to strike. Black lines were spreading along the tree from where the stinger was stuck, rapidly wilting it. She shot forward, bounded over its pincers, and kicked off its head. Her rapier swooped in a wide arc, and then she hit the ground running. The Death Stalker roared louder and longer than ever, flailing and writhing as smoke billowed from its tail where the stinger had been severed.

Weiss stood and waited for the opportunity to strike again, still keeping alert for the Geist. The venom was taking over the tree now, a whole dark patch surrounding the trunk. Then the damage became too much, and a deafening crack reverberated through the woods. The tree toppled over and landed directly on the Grimm. To finish it off, Weiss closed in and buried her rapier hilt-deep into one of its ten eyes. The Death Stalker let out a final roar and weakly clicked its pincers one last time. Then it became still. Within a matter of moments, it was nothing more than a cloud of dark vapor.

Weiss dropped to a knee, holding onto her sword for support. In the minute she took to rest, it began to snow.

* * *

The Geist hadn't proven to be an issue. The commotion she'd made in killing the Death Stalker had drawn it to her. Weiss had fought one before, so she knew its weaknesses. Plus, it hadn't found anything useful to possess. The hardest part had been chasing it through the snow when it tried to flee, but once it made the mistake of entering a cave, it was over.

Weiss opened her eyes and quickly withdrew her hand from the prisoner's forehead, then used it to wipe the sweat off her own. Her heart was beating faster, and her breathing was heavy; it was almost as if she'd actually done all that running and fighting. But she wasn't completely spent yet.

"Is . . . that it?" one of the guards asked. "Did you do it?"

Weiss nodded. "He's healed."

"That fast?"

"That fast."

"Alright then," said the other guard. "We'll bring in the next one." He walked around the prisoner to release his restraints, then paused. "What's wrong with him?"

The former psychopath hadn't moved a millimeter since Weiss left his mind. He was staring, wide-eyed, right through her with a blank expression on his face. He didn't seem aware of what the rest of them were saying, or that they even existed.

"Shock, I expect," Weiss answered. "People react to the lack of their afflictions in different ways. I've never treated something this severe and deep-rooted before, but I can safely say it'll take some work for him to adjust to the change. He'll probably be feeling guilt and regret for the first time, now, which will be difficult to cope with."

"Well, what do we do with him, then?" said the guard. "We can't just throw him back in with the other inmates in this state."

Weiss thought for a moment. Usually, she told her clients to take a day off and recuperate, and to try to get into the habit of meditation. She also suggested they begin keeping a journal, and taught them some helpful brain exercises. The most important piece of advice she gave was to avoid any situations or patterns that might have caused the mental illness to develop in the first place. But this man wasn't fit to even hear those instructions, let alone act on them.

"Isolate him until he can talk again," she decided, "then he'll need frequent attention from a normal psychologist. Keep a close watch on him. I've already given your warden a file with detailed instructions on what else he should do to prevent his newly healed mind from deteriorating." She stood. "It might be simplest to leave him here for now, if it's possible for me to treat the next patient in another room."

"I'll clear it with the warden," said a guard.

Fifteen minutes later, Weiss was sitting in a new chair in a new room when the guards brought in her next patient. He was bald and on the heavier side, but packed a decent amount of muscle. As the guards chained him to the chair, he wouldn't look at her and had a noticeable quiver in his hands. Weiss wondered how much better _she'd_ looked when they brought in the psychopath.

"Bole Maze," a guard quietly informed her. "Generalized anxiety disorder."

"Nothing else?" she said.

"No." He joined his colleague at the door.

She turned her attention to the inmate. "My name is Weiss."

"Bole," said Bole.

She allowed him to read her card, and he had no comments. As soon as he said he was ready, Weiss touched his forehead and returned to the Emerald Forest.

As usual, she drew her rapier and observed her surroundings, but her target wasn't as easy to find this time around. She found north and set off at a brisk pace. She was looking for a Beowolf, a creature she'd slain four times already. GAD is among the most common mental disorders, and the one she'd treated the most often. If there were no more surprises, this was set to be a simple enough case that she should be able to heal a third inmate today.

A couple of minutes later, Weiss passed by the cave she'd trapped the Geist in. A quick glance inside told her that her adversary wasn't there, so she moved on. One window had appeared so far, and Weiss paid it no mind. She'd only passed one in the previous prisoner's mind, but that was probably because of how little time she'd spent in there. A handful would likely pop up before the Beowolf fell.

Weiss could almost feel the card still cupped in her hand in the real world. It was the same one she'd shown Jaune Arc. Paragons are legally required to report any and all developments in their semblances to the Civil Anomaly Bureau, then they're issued an updated registration or license. But she had yet to contact them. As long as she didn't abuse the new ability, there was no harm in keeping it secret. No one knew about it. Well, except for Jaune Arc. But if he hadn't reported her to the CAB yet, then she doubted he ever would.

Ten minutes later, Weiss had passed two more memories when she heard a howl off in the distance. She took off at a run in that direction, giving the sky a quick glance. The moon was out with its shattered side hidden from view, making it look whole.

The trees were racing by, and the Beowolf howled again, sounding a lot closer now. She thought it might be just up ahead in that clearing. Her grip on her rapier tightened, and she quickened her pace. It was fifteen feet away now. Ten feet—

_Bang!_

Weiss tripped and fell, scraping her hands on the ground. She scrambled to her feet and looked around for the source of what had unmistakably been a gunshot. Then she saw it, not five feet to her right, another window. Her instincts carried her to it while her mind told her to walk away. But her eyes were glued to the memory now.

Bole was in a dark building, a dropped flashlight illuminating a portion of the scene. He watched a slender woman walk away, handing a pistol over to someone walking alongside her. Her features were obscured by darkness, but she was tall and had bleached hair and wore heels that clicked against the floor with every step.

"Wait!" Bole called out to her, a slight quaver in his voice. "What do we do with the body?"

"Leave it," the woman ordered. "She can't do any harm to us now."

Then Bole looked down at the body, lying in a pool of blood. It was a female police officer, by the looks of it. She had a bullet wound in her forehead and stared up at the ceiling with a blank expression. She looked familiar, yet Weiss couldn't immediately figure out why.

Then she remembered her last failed contract, for the paragon who had claimed to be suffering from insomnia. A picture leaning against a grave swam into memory, and Weiss gasped.

Bole knelt down and closed the silver eyes of Summer Rose with a gloved hand, then he stood and walked after the woman who was apparently his boss.

Weiss stood there, frozen in shock. The Beowolf had managed to completely slip her mind, and she was reminded of it in the most brutal way possible—with claws tearing into her back and fangs piercing her neck.


	4. V1C4: Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my beta readers on FF.net: Bardothren, I Write Big, and 0neWhoWanders. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.

When it came to Weiss's semblance, the line between reality and fantasy was very obscure. Was the Emerald Forest real? No. Was the Beowolf real? No. Was the pain she felt when it mauled her real? Yes.

When she was just a girl, a cartoon called _Warriors of Grimm_ had been a guilty pleasure of hers. She'd watch it at night on low volume, so no one could hear, with a blanket wrapped around her and her nose almost pressed against the screen. After Winter left to join the military, the show became her only solace. Whenever her father expressed his disappointment that Weiss wasn't singing well enough or showing as much enthusiasm for the STC as she should, and when her mother was too drunk to pay her any attention—that show was where she'd escape to.

 _Warriors of Grimm_ featured a world plagued by dark creatures called Grimm. Paragons didn't exist in that world; it was just ordinary people using fantastic weapons and skills to face unique challenges. That's the main thing that had attracted her to it. When the real world was full of people who'll shun and fear you just for being born with a semblance, it was easy to lose yourself in a fictional one without that kind of discrimination.

In reality, her semblance just altered the brain chemistry of a person's mind in order to weed out the mental illness. It was a complex science that her own brain needed to interpret somehow, so it only made sense that it turned her into a warrior of Grimm. And though she tried, it was impossible to experience anything else. It made the process of curing people a lot simpler, but it also made trying to understand the full scope of her capabilities extremely difficult.

So did the Beowolf actually kill her? Of course not. But that didn't mean that "dying" within a mental landscape came without consequences. For the past three days since her first job healing convicts, Weiss had been lying at home doing little more than rewatching old episodes of _Warriors of Grimm_ with an ice pack on her forehead, as well as throwing up now and again. Her failure had drained her of all energy and left her with a fever. Consequently, she'd had to move all her appointments back a week.

As Weiss laid on the couch, the warriors taking down a Nevermore on TV, she pondered over her notebook. What she saw when using her semblance may have started as a fabrication of her own mind, but the more she used it, the more she realized that there were rules and consistency to it. It operated logically with patterns that it never deviated from—Weiss believed if she could identify them all, she could bypass its limitations. The thing with Forever Fall and the windows were just more factors to figure out.

Though she'd been staring at the same page for the better part of an hour, she'd come up with no new revelations. Her untouched soup was getting cold, and her ice pack had melted. It wasn't until the episode ended and a different show began to play that she finally built up the strength to drop the notebook and sit up. Only because she didn't want it to go to waste, Weiss began eating tiny spoonfuls of soup to sate her nonexistent appetite, at the same time flicking through the channels.

Surprisingly, Weiss wasn't that upset about screwing up another contract—unlike her previous two failures, she'd be able to try again and redeem herself. The most annoying part was that it had been a Beowolf that had taken her down. A _Beowolf_. The warriors kill about a dozen of them every episode. And yet, one had been responsible for her fourth "death".

In all honesty, a small part of her was almost glad that it had happened. It gave her a whole week to contemplate—time to spend trying not to think about the memory she wished she hadn't seen. She also had a valid excuse to avoid contacting Ruby Rose, who had emailed her four times now, trying to pay her for the job she didn't do. Weiss hadn't responded to any of them, of course; she had more pride than that.

There was nothing worth watching on TV. She checked every channel she had access to, pausing on the news for only a moment—there'd been another bank robbery in the night—before finally hitting the power button. Weiss dropped her spoon back into the bowl, unable to stomach a fourth bite, and miserably pushed herself to her feet. As if it took a great effort, she walked five steps to the kitchen and replaced her ice pack with a fresh one. Then she fell back onto the couch and sighed in relief as the cold soothed her temple.

For a while, she just laid there, wondering whether she could relax enough to fall asleep. But then her scroll buzzed. Weiss checked it and found another email from Ruby Rose. She set the scroll back down and shut her eyes again. Almost immediately, the image of Summer Rose's dead body came back to her.

* * *

Three days later, Weiss was feeling a lot better—physically. Mentally, she was still a wreck. Though she'd tried to occupy her thoughts with anything else, she'd been tearing herself apart about what she'd seen all week. She agonized over whether she should tell Ruby Rose what she'd seen—and subsequently the police—or if she could continue keeping her semblance's evolution a secret.

Ruby already knew. Her mother had been killed two years ago. That was plenty of time for an investigation to wrap up and for the murderer to be caught. There's no way the death of a police officer—assuming the incident hadn't just happened to occur on Halloween—could remain unsolved for this long. Bole Maze, who was an associate to the crime, was in prison—surely, that was a good sign.

But, just as soon as Weiss had been reassured by this reasoning, the realization that she didn't know what Bole Maze had been convicted for brought it crashing down. He could have been imprisoned for an unrelated crime, and his involvement with Summer Rose's murder could have never been uncovered. And if that was the case, then Weiss had a moral obligation to share what she'd learned.

Of course, the solution was simple. The answer was one internet search away, but she didn't want to know it. If the result wasn't to her liking, it meant she'd have no choice but to notify the CAB of the development in her semblance. Then she'd get a shiny new license informing her potential clients that she could have access to all their secrets. It was extremely doubtful that her career would survive that.

Then she received a call that further complicated the situation.

"Weiss Schnee?" a woman's voice said on the scroll.

"Speaking," said Weiss.

"I'm calling from the Eastern Vale Correctional Facility. I have it here that you're scheduled to come in tomorrow, yes?"

"That's correct."

"I'm afraid we're going to have to postpone that appointment indefinitely."

"What? Why?"

"Last night, we had a security breach, and someone died. Until we can conclude an investigation, the warden has strictly forbidden any and all outside visitors. I apologize for the inconvenience."

Weiss didn't respond right away. "Someone . . . died? Who?"

"An inmate." There was a pause. "One of the ones you were set to treat, in fact."

Her heart sank, and she asked a question she already knew the answer to. "Which one?"

"Bole Maze."

It couldn't be a coincidence. He'd aided and abetted a murder, been incarcerated, and then died during a security breach. Now, Weiss didn't want to jump to any conclusions, but the circumstances were very suspicious. It sounded like Bole Maze had known something dangerous, and someone on the outside killed him because of it.

Minutes after the call had ended, Weiss was still staring at her scroll. She braced herself for the information she should have sought out days ago, and pulled up a search engine. The entry "Summer Rose" yielded her an article dated two years back— _Police detective found shot in abandoned Vale subway station._

Weiss read it. Summer Rose had been reported missing four days before a group of teenagers happened across her body. How she wound up there was unknown. The only sign of damage was a bullet wound to her head. No suspects had been named.

Unsatisfied, Weiss hit the back button and kept searching. She found more articles but no new information. The most recent one stated that the investigation was "ongoing with no new leads". As far as the internet was concerned, Bole Maze's hands were clean of the crime, as were those of the woman who'd pulled the trigger. Searching his name yielded nothing—not even a reason for his arrest and incarceration.

After half an hour, Weiss leaned back in defeat. She knew something that the police didn't, which meant she had to report it. That also meant she had to share _how_ she'd learned it. There was no choice to be made here.

But there was one person who deserved to know before anyone else. So Weiss navigated her way to one of the several emails she'd ignored and tapped "reply".

* * *

Around the time she should have been curing convicts, Weiss knocked on an apartment door. A few seconds passed before the silver-eyed girl answered.

"Hi!" Ruby beamed.

"Hello," said Weiss. "Can I come in?"

"Of course!" She stepped aside and gestured welcomingly.

Weiss entered and made for the couch. The apartment looked no different from the last time she was here, except for the hoodie and backpack tossed haphazardly onto a chair. The TV was off, and some papers were sprawled across the coffee table—they looked to be designs and technical drawings of some sort.

"Coffee?" Ruby had closed the door and was already on her way to the kitchen.

"No, thank you," said Weiss.

Ruby returned to the living room half a minute later with a glass of milk and sat next to Weiss, looking inexplicably excited.

Weiss scooched away, unable to meet the girl's eyes. "As I said in my email, there was something I needed to discuss with you."

"You've figured out how to help me with my insomnia," Ruby said without a trace of doubt in her voice.

"Your—? No. You don't _have_ insomnia. This has nothing to do with that."

"What?" Ruby looked confused. "Yes I do! Why else would you want to talk to me? You said you don't want my money."

"I'm not here to argue with you about your denial," Weiss said flatly. "Your 'condition' can't be cured, and you need to accept that. But that's not why I came here."

Ruby's face fell. "Oh."

Weiss swallowed, feeling a pang of guilt in knowing she was about to make the younger woman even more somber. It was surprisingly difficult to get the words out.

"Then why _did_ you ask to meet me?" Ruby asked.

Weiss took a deep breath, sighed, and said, "I've learned something about the death of your mother."

There was a blank look in Ruby's eyes, as if she didn't fully understand what she'd said. "Huh?"

"Some time ago, shortly before our first meeting, my semblance developed the ability to see people's memories. I've been pretending it hasn't, avoiding using it as best I could, but . . . last week, by mistake, I saw something I shouldn't have."

"And?" Ruby asked quietly, her face etched in worry.

"I had a job curing convicted criminals. One of them was there when your mother was shot. I saw the memory, and I saw the woman who fired the gun."

"You . . . you know who killed my mom?"

"No," Weiss said hastily. "It was dark, and I only caught a glimpse of her back. But I know the name of the prisoner who was involved. Bole Maze. That's a lead."

"That's a lead," Ruby muttered, looking deep in thought. It was impossible to tell what she was feeling. "Weiss, this is huge. Why did you wait so long to say anything?"

"I've been under the weather," Weiss said truthfully, though that wasn't the only factor. "But today I'll go to the CAB office to inform them of the evolution in my semblance, then I'll report what I've learned to the police."

"You don't sound too thrilled about that."

Weiss hesitated. "How willing would you have been to go through with the process of me trying to heal you if you'd known I could see your private memories?"

"I'd still want you to try."

"Really?"

"Duh. Just because you can, doesn't mean you _would_ , right?"

Weiss stared at her, perplexed. "You don't know me. How could you just assume I'd do the right thing?"

For a brief moment, a shadow seemed to pass over Ruby's face. "My mom always knew how to see the best in people—even those that don't deserve it. If I can't aspire to be like her, then what's the point?"

Weiss looked away from her. "Well . . . not everyone's that trusting. Not everyone's that desperate, or has as little to hide. Everyone knowing what I can do will make it a lot harder for me to keep this as my career. It's difficult enough as is."

"But that's crazy! There are so many people that could use your help. All those people with dementia or depression or—"

"You're being naive. You don't understand what it's like to be a paragon, Ruby. Not really. Your semblance isn't something a stranger would ever find out about. So you haven't experienced the kind of hatred they can have for us. People would rather keep their phobias and disabilities than be touched by a 'lusus naturae'."

Ruby let out a small gasp. "Have . . . have you actually been called that?"

"Several times. And this new ability is just something else to scream 'don't hire me'."

Weiss could feel those silver eyes staring at her sympathetically, which seemed backward. She'd come here to talk about the murder of Ruby's mother, after all.

"So . . . What if they didn't know?" said Ruby.

"What are you talking about?"

"What if you just didn't tell people? Keep it secret and don't use it, you know?"

"That's not possible. As soon as I tell the CAB—"

"Then don't tell them."

"I _have_ to!" Weiss said, frustrated. "Don't you understand? I can't give this information to the police without telling them _how_ I came across it."

"That's what I'm saying! Don't go to the police."

Seconds of silence followed as Weiss tried to figure out whether she'd misheard. "What?"

" _I_ can follow the lead. _I'll_ investigate it—without the police."

" _You'll_ investigate?"

"Yes."

" _You?_ "

"Yes!"

"Are you . . . qualified to do that, somehow?"

"What's there to be qualified for? Ask questions, find answers. It's not rocket science."

Weiss had to make an effort to keep her voice calm. "Ruby. This isn't a game. This is real life. There is a _murderer_ out there. What do you plan on doing if you find her? You could die!"

"Well I'm not going to confront her, obviously! If I can get a name, _then_ I'll go to the cops."

"And you think that _you_ can do a better job than them?"

"I have to try."

" _Why?_ "

"I just _have_ to."

"That doesn't—"

"Because someone killed my mom!" Ruby exclaimed, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears. "I just . . . I just have to find out why they killed my mom."

A wave of pity swept over Weiss. She tried to put herself in Ruby's shoes, to feel the hopelessness in knowing that her mother would never come back—to know that there was someone out there, walking free, who'd taken her from her, but not know why. She wouldn't want to sit idly, waiting and hoping for someone else to find the answers she so desperately wanted. She'd want to do something, anything, to seek justice.

Weiss understood Ruby's desire to take action. It wasn't too different from her own situation. She was using her semblance, curing people, and learning its limits. She was doing everything she could to understand and master it so she could accomplish what she'd failed to do. Weiss could picture her own mother's face as vividly as ever, staring madly, unable to recognize even her own daughter.

But still. Vale had dozens of precincts full of professional detectives far more capable of achieving anything with this information, and in a much more timely manner. To keep it from them to privately investigate it without any sort of experience would be insane. And childish. And, with Weiss's motivations, selfish.

"Ruby," Weiss said with her best attempt at a consoling tone. "You didn't see what I saw. You don't understand the full scope of the situation."

"Then _explain_ it to me," Ruby pleaded.

Weiss hesitated, then described the memory in detail. She made a point of mentioning exactly how callous the woman had been, and the conviction with which she gave orders. "Do you realize now? This isn't just some random killer. This is someone with power and followers."

"'She can't do any harm to us now,'" Ruby muttered to the floor, echoing the killer.

"Also . . . There's something else I failed to mention."

Ruby looked up at her.

"Two nights ago," said Weiss, "There was a breach in security at the prison, and Bole Maze died. The person I talked to wasn't explicit about what happened, but it's not a stretch to guess that someone on the outside broke in and killed him—because he had information they didn't want to be discovered."

"'She can't do any harm to us now,'" Ruby said again. "My mom was the best detective the world has ever seen. She must have been investigating them, and that's why they killed her." Her voice cracked.

"And if they find out that _you've_ learned too much, what do you think will happen then? They're not going to just let you go. You'll meet the same exact fate."

Ruby was silent for a spell. "I have to try."

Weiss huffed. "For the love of—!"

"I have to try!" Ruby interjected. "Don't you get it? This is even _more_ reason to do this quietly, without getting the cops involved. If the police get this lead and start investigating it, how long before _she_ finds out? Any chance of catching her by surprise and arresting her will be gone!"

"So . . . what? You'll arrest her yourself?"

"That's not what I'm saying. If I can find out _who_ she is, then I'll tell the cops. I just mean that the longer this investigation remains off the books, the easier it'll be to stop her."

Weiss was slightly impressed by her reasoning, but didn't let it show. "But _you'd_ be the one shouldering all the risk. If you ask one wrong question, put one toe out of line, you'd be putting yourself directly into their sights. And you probably wouldn't even know until they've already killed you."

"I'm not stupid. I can be careful, and I can take care of myself. I won't try anything dangerous. And if I can't learn anything, _then_ I'll let the cops take over. Okay?"

As Weiss stared at her determined, defiant face, she couldn't help but feel a small sense of admiration for the girl and her idiotic plan. Behind the naive drive to avenge her mother, there was some authentic courage inside Ruby. And Weiss almost found herself believing in her, trusting that she could actually do it.

"Where would you even start?" Weiss asked.

"Bole Maze," Ruby answered readily. "You said he was a prisoner. Finding out _what_ he was arrested for would be the first clue. If I can figure out his past, maybe I can find out who he worked for."

A stupid thought came to Weiss. It was an idea so ill-advised that she questioned her own intelligence. Surely no straight-A student who'd graduated high school a year early and gotten a master's degree in five years would say something as moronic as what she was about to say. And yet—

"Well, you won't do it alone," said Weiss.

Ruby's brow furrowed. "Uh . . . what?"

"I'm going to help you."

Ruby stared at Weiss as if expecting her to suddenly shout, "Just kidding!" But she didn't. There were few moments throughout Weiss's life where she'd made an honest joke, but this wasn't one of them.

"Why?" Ruby asked.

She couldn't explain it. Perhaps it was guilt for her reluctance; had she acted sooner, Bole Maze might have been able to provide more information before his death. Maybe it was the fear of permanently losing her own mother that made her sympathetic enough to want to help get justice for Ruby's. Whatever the case, the silver-eyed girl had made up her mind, and she'd be needing help.

"Because," said Weiss, "I've failed to talk to you into a more reasonable course of action, and _someone_ is going to have to keep you out of trouble."

Ruby stared for several seconds, emotionless. Then a smile slowly crept onto her lips.

"But let me make one thing clear," said Weiss. "As soon as we hit a dead-end or run into any kind of danger, we're going straight to the—Get off me!"

Ruby had thrown herself at Weiss and embraced her in a hug, which came full force with a strong waft of her rosy perfume. Weiss pushed her away, but Ruby was still grinning.

"You're the best witch doctor ever!" she said happily.

Weiss rolled her eyes and sighed, already regretting her decision.


	5. V1C5: Corkboard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my beta readers on FF.net: I Write Big, 0neWhoWanders, and Bardothren. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.

Weiss's knock was answered by a yelled, "Come in!" So, she admitted herself into the apartment, which was apparently empty. After looking around for a few seconds, she called out, "Ruby?"

Ruby's head appeared from around a corner, accompanied by a hand waving her over. "In here!" Then she disappeared again.

"What is this?" Weiss walked over to the hallway, where two of three doors had been left ajar. "Why did you have me come all the way up here?"

The first door led to the bathroom. The second could only be Ruby's bedroom, which Weiss entered apprehensively.

"I had to show you this!" Ruby said proudly.

The decor was wholly unsurprising. The walls were painted black. A bookshelf stood off in one corner, which stored more comic books than actual books, as well as the photo of Ruby's mother that had once leaned against her grave. The window was blocked by a red curtain, which had been torn and shoddily sewn back together. In lieu of a bed, a plump couch faced a television stand, a laptop resting on one of the cushions. Posters were tacked up all over the walls for bands, movies, video games, and fictional superheroes—but the most prime wall space was reserved for a poster of the Protector of Vale.

The thing Ruby wanted her to see, though, was a standing corkboard, positioned behind the door. On the floor next to it was a ball of red yarn, a stack of paper, and a container of thumbtacks.

"You can't be serious," said Weiss.

"Wait!" Ruby flipped the corkboard over to reveal that she'd already gotten started on the other side. "Tada!"

A map of Vale had been taped to the center of the board with a single pin placed toward the city's western side. Thread connected that pin to the three beneath it, which each held up a photograph. One was larger than the others and showed a female silhouette with two descriptors scribbled beneath it— _tall, light hair_. The other two were positioned right below it, one being another silhouette and the other a mugshot of a man Weiss didn't recognize. Taped to the corner of the board was a newspaper clipping detailing the discovery of Summer Rose's body, with another pin and line of thread connecting it to the point on the map.

"This is ridiculous," said Weiss.

"What?" Ruby said defensively.

"Don't tell me you actually went out and purchased these items just for this."

"No," Ruby said unconvincingly.

Weiss cocked her brow.

"What's it matter if I did, anyway? What's wrong with my crime board?"

"First of all, 'crime board' sounds absurd. Secondly, this is entirely unnecessary. Seeing something done on a mediocre detective show isn't a reason to emulate it."

"It was a detective _movie_ , and it was critically acclaimed!"

Weiss massaged her forehead, trying to remember the reasons she'd agreed to aid Ruby in this endeavor. But, of course, she hadn't been able to figure them all out in the first place.

"Fine. Whatever. But . . ." Weiss pointed at the mugshot. "Who is this?"

Ruby frowned. "Bole Maze."

"No, it isn't."

"It's not?"

"No. Where did you get this?"

"The internet. It was the first result when I looked him up."

"Well that's not him. Maze is bald and . . . hefty."

Ruby flipped the picture over and then wrote the name on the back in large handwriting, accompanied by Weiss's description. "Well, I'm just going off the information you gave me. We know there were at least three people there—Maze, the murderer, and whoever she handed the gun to. We know the first—now we just need to identify the other two."

"It's very little to go off of. It hardly necessitates this cliché."

"Well, obviously, we'll be adding to it as we get more evidence."

"Whatever. It's _your_ free time you're wasting, and I suppose you're not exactly hurting for it."

A pained look passed over Ruby's face, but it was gone in a fraction of a second.

"Are you ready, then?" Weiss asked.

"Yes."

"Then let's go." She turned around and set off toward the exit. Ruby followed alongside her, grabbing and donning a red zip-up hoodie on the way out.

Several minutes later, they'd left the building and traveled down the street to where Weiss's car was parked next to a meter. The pair entered the vehicle and fastened their seatbelts.

"What kind of music do you have?" Ruby asked.

"Classical." Weiss started the ignition and checked her mirrors.

"Oh, really? Nothing else?"

"Why? What's wrong with classical?"

"Well . . . it's a bit dull."

" _Dull?_ "

"I mean, to each their own!" Ruby said hastily. "It's just not my thing."

"Then fiddle with the radio, if you must."

Ruby grinned and set on the knob without hesitation. She selected a rock station which, if Weiss was being honest, sounded alright.

* * *

"So how are we going to do this?" Ruby asked as they were pulling up to the county clerk's office. "You distract the receptionist while I sneak a look at the files? Or do we bribe them? Ooh! Or we—"

"No, you dunce! Have you never heard of freedom of information?"

Ruby scratched her head. "Well, yeah."

"They're going to give us the file after we request it. That's it."

"That's no fun."

"We're supposed to be avoiding taking risks."

"Yeah, yeah."

Weiss rolled her eyes. "There'll likely be a fee, so you can _pretend_ you're bribing them, if you want."

"I'm not a child."

"You could've fooled me."

Ruby made an offended noise that Weiss ignored. She pulled into the parking lot and found a spot, then the two left the vehicle and made their way to the building.

"Had to have passed the place hundreds of times," said Ruby. "Never been inside."

Weiss glanced at her. "You've lived in Vale for a while, then, I take it?"

"Born and raised."

They passed through the front doors into a hallway with signs hanging from the ceiling. Weiss soon spotted the one that read, _County Clerk_ , and took the lead. On the way, they passed the DMV, which made Weiss think.

"You said you've never been here before?" she said.

"Yeah. Why?" said Ruby.

"Don't you have a driver's license?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"I live in _Vale_. I don't need one. It's so much cheaper to just use the subway, or let my sister pick me up when we're off at the same time."

Weiss frowned. She'd already sold her old sports car and downgraded to what she drove now. She'd known, of course, how unkind big cities were to drivers, but the idea of using a subway system several times a day was abhorrent to her. That was a low that even she hadn't sunk to yet. But the fact that Ruby, who could somehow afford to live in such a nice apartment, didn't think it was worth it to own a car spoke volumes.

They reached their destination, which wasn't all that busy. The interior resembled a hospital waiting room, with a long counter lining the farthest wall and chairs and end tables taking up most of the remaining floor space. The main difference was the color scheme, which was mostly beige rather than abundantly white and blue.

"Good evening," said one of the people behind the counter as the two approached. "How can I assist you today?"

"Bole Maze!" Ruby said.

"Er, I'm sorry?"

Weiss shot Ruby a scathing look, then smiled politely at the male worker. "What my associate _meant_ to say is, we're looking for court transcripts of the trial or trials of a man named Bole Maze."

"Ah. This might take some time, as we're having some issues with our database. Do you know the date of the trial?"

"We don't."

"Hmm. Well, take a seat for a few minutes, and I'll see what I can do."

Weiss gave him an appreciative nod then found an empty chair to occupy; Ruby invited herself to one directly beside her. Weiss crossed her legs and waited patiently, observing the room, but found herself distracted by Ruby's humming and tapping. She asked her to stop, but thirty seconds later, Ruby was back to being irritating.

The minutes dragged on. Weiss focused on the man behind the counter, who, by the looks of it, wasn't having an easy time with their request. He fiddled with his computer, spoke with colleagues, talked shortly on a landline, and disappeared into the backroom for a while. When he finally called them back over, his expression was one of regret.

"I'm afraid we don't have the files you're seeking," he told them.

Weiss's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"How's that possible?" Ruby asked.

"We _did_ have them at one point," he explained. "One of my coworkers received and processed them about a month ago. But, sometime over the weekend, there was an intrusion that resulted in a great number of documents being destroyed. Bole Maze's were among them."

"This weekend?" Weiss gave Ruby a meaningful look, but she didn't seem to grasp the gravity of what he'd said.

"Yes," said the man.

"Well, what do you mean by destroyed?" Ruby asked. "You should still have the digital files, at least, right?"

"Many of our physical records were found in ash, and large chunks of our electronic database were deleted."

"Then restore the backups," Weiss said impatiently.

"This was a very sophisticated attack." He was starting to look annoyed. "Whoever was behind this made a great effort to ensure that whatever they were after could not be recovered. Our security cameras were undamaged, yet had been remotely disabled. This person is clearly very skilled, but the police are doing their best to identify them."

"This is unacceptable."

"Weiss," Ruby warned.

"No," Weiss continued indignantly. "This is a _government_ building. It should be equipped with top of the line technology. An STC system would have held against even the most competent hackers and—"

"We _do_ have an STC system," the worker cut in.

Weiss blinked. "What?"

"We're using Schnee tech to protect our databases. This breach, as well as the STC going under, is making us consider other options."

"But that's impossible! Your data would have been encrypted and spread out across multiple servers across the country."

"I don't know what to tell you, miss." He seemed to be running out of patience. "The attackers knew what they were doing, and the files are irretrievable. I'm sorry to tell you that we cannot provide the files you're requesting. Have a nice day."

"Come on." Ruby tried to reach for Weiss's wrist, but she yanked it away and made for the exit on her own. Ruby hurried after her, speaking up once they were in the hallway. "You could've been nicer."

Weiss stopped and rounded on her, ignoring the comment. "Don't you understand what this means?"

"Well, it sucks, yeah, but this isn't the end of the road."

"Ruby, this happened just a few days ago. The files detailing the reason for Maze's conviction were destroyed on the same weekend—possibly even the same day—that he was killed."

"It's the same people, yeah."

Weiss blinked. "I didn't think you'd picked up on that."

"It was obvious, wasn't it? What I _didn't_ pick up on is why you were so short with that guy."

"I just don't understand how those files can be permanently deleted. STC systems have all sorts of advanced fail-safes that should, at the very least, protect the integrity of data even when it can't ensure its security."

"Why does that bother you so much? Are you an STC fangirl or something?"

Weiss turned and continued walking. "It shouldn't be possible."

"That company's been dead for like a year now. The lack of continued software updates is bound to open up some vulnerabilities."

"Smart" wasn't the first impression Weiss had gotten from Ruby, but perhaps she'd underestimated her. Regardless, she was unconvinced. The STC had still been developing off of some of her grandfather's designs up until the end, and he hadn't been involved with the company since before Weiss was even born. Longevity was one of the core qualities that had made them as successful as they were. Ten months without updates wasn't enough to make something impossible suddenly possible.

"Look on the bright side," Ruby said a couple of minutes later as they buckled themselves in.

"What bright side?" said Weiss.

"Well, this wasn't a total waste of time. We learned that Maze was only imprisoned a month ago."

"It's something," Weiss agreed halfheartedly. "Why are you so optimistic? You're the one this setback actually affects."

Ruby shrugged. "We haven't hit a dead-end yet. We just need to find a new approach. And we _do_ have new things to add to the crime board."

Weiss sighed and shook her head, then pulled out of the parking space.

"Come on up to my apartment again when we get there," said Ruby. "We can do some brainstorming and maybe look online for some more clues."

"Haven't you already done that?"

"Yeah, but you know how big the internet is. Could have easily missed something."

"I'd rather just go home. I haven't eaten yet."

"All the better! Yang's making dinner tonight; I bet I can convince her to make you a plate."

"Who's Yang?"

"My sister. We live together."

That helped explain how Ruby afforded her apartment, but Weiss thought that even half that rent had to be too expensive for anyone under thirty. Was this Yang earning enough to pay all of it?

"So?" said Ruby. "Join us for dinner?"

Weiss pretended to contemplate, but who was she to pass up a free meal? "Fine."

* * *

As they waited for Yang to come home, Ruby had the idea to see if there was a way to check someone's criminal record online. Lo and behold, there were several resources made to do exactly that. So, they'd picked one and taken half an hour to find what they believed to be the right Bole Maze; none of the others the tool had come up with were in the right age range or lived in the same area. As soon as it prompted payment, Ruby gave it her own card, and then all his records were laid bare.

"This doesn't make any sense," said Weiss.

"Are you sure it's him?" Ruby asked.

"That's definitely him," said Weiss. His photos had been locked behind the paywall, too, but were now visible.

"Then, the results have to be wrong?"

According to his record, Bole Maze had never been to prison or even spent a night in jail. He'd served some time in juvie as a teenager and had a couple misdemeanors under his belt, but never been convicted of a serious crime. Other than some shoplifting and underage drinking, he was apparently clean.

"Or they've been attacked, too," Weiss suggested.

"Let's try another site." Ruby was already typing.

"You know they're going to charge you, too, right?"

She didn't appear to hear her. They went through the whole process a second time with an alternative tool. It gave the same exact results.

"Third time's a charm?" Ruby said with little enthusiasm.

"Whoever's behind this is incredibly thorough," said Weiss. "And highly skilled."

"Or rich enough to hire someone highly skilled."

There was a knock on the bedroom door, which hadn't been fully closed. Then a woman pushed it open and stepped through. She was very beautiful, with striking violet eyes and a mane of blonde hair flowing down her back. Her face had an easygoing expression to it, which contrasted with her professional attire, consisting of belted trousers and a tucked-in dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows—her right arm was a very advanced looking prosthetic, painted yellow and black. She looked like she might've been around Weiss's age, potentially older.

"Hey, sis." The woman's—who could only be Yang—eyes started on Ruby, then came to rest curiously on Weiss. "Who's your friend?"

Weiss quickly glanced toward the corkboard, but it was hidden behind the door. She was about to open her mouth to protest against the use of "friend", but then her eyes found a badge clipped to Yang's waist. The words, "City of Vale Detective", were inscribed on it.

"This is Weiss," said Ruby. "She's helping me out with a school project."

"Weiss," Yang repeated, sounding as if the name were familiar to her. She shrugged after a few seconds, then held out her non-metal hand. "I'm Yang."

So, Ruby insisted that they don't go to the police with the lead Weiss had stumbled onto, but her own _sister_ was a detective? And she'd just lied about what they were doing. Yang was Summer's daughter, too—surely she deserved to know what they'd learned, _especially_ considering her qualifications.

Weiss was so distracted that it took a little too long for her to stand and accept the handshake with a polite smile. "A pleasure."

"So, what's the project?" Yang asked.

"AI theory," said Ruby. "Weiss is an expert on psychology, so I thought she could have some input. I told her she could stay for dinner."

"Ah, about that . . ." Yang said guiltily. "I wish you'd warned me."

Ruby's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I kind of flaked. Didn't really feel like cooking tonight, so I just stopped and grabbed pizza."

"Yang!" Ruby complained.

"I had a coupon!"

Ruby sighed. "Fine. We're having pizza, then. You don't mind pepperoni, do you, Weiss?"

"Or pineapple?" said Yang.

" _What?_ " Ruby stared at her sister, horrified.

"I'm kidding!" Yang chuckled. She looked at Weiss. "Just pepperoni. That cool?"

"Um, yeah. Sure," said Weiss. "Thank you."

"Is Blake not joining us?" Ruby asked.

"Nah," said Yang. "Sun and Neptune invited her out for a drink."

"And you didn't go with them?"

"Of course not! I may not have felt like cooking, but I still made a commitment to feed my little sister. Speaking of, we better hurry before the food gets cold." With that, she left.

The instant she was gone, Weiss gave Ruby a fierce look, who was already fiddling with her fingers, looking guilty.

"Look, I know what you're going to say," Ruby said before Weiss could speak. "But it's not what it looks like."

"Oh, sure," Weiss said sarcastically. "I misread the badge, and your sister's actually just a health inspector, or something."

Ruby walked over and closed the door. "No, she _is_ a cop, but—"

"She's a _detective_ , Ruby. It's literally her job to solve crimes and track down murderers—like the one that killed her mother. Why would you lie to her? And why didn't you tell me about this?"

"Lots of reasons! And I was _going_ to tell you, but the opportunity just hadn't come up. We've only known each other a couple days, except for our first meeting."

"But why keep this from her?"

"Because Yang's super protective. And I love her, more than anything, but she'd freak out if she knew what I was doing. I don't want her to worry or anything."

"She deserves to know what little we've learned about your mother."

"She's not _her_ mom, though. I mean, she may as well be, but she's not actually."

"What?"

"My mom is only Yang's step-mom. We're half-sisters. But my mom raised her since she was a baby and loved her just as much, so it doesn't really change anything. But that's not the point. My original argument still stands—keeping this quiet for as long as we can is the best option."

Weiss crossed her arms. "Do you think your sister is bad at her job?"

"No, of course not. This has nothing to do with that. I'm sure she could do a lot with this lead, but I believe that _I_ can too— _we_ can. And if I tell her, then she'll either have to report it, or she'll keep it secret, which goes against her principles."

Weiss sat down and began rubbing her temple.

"Look how hard these people are trying to cover up Bole Maze's tracks!" Ruby reasoned. "And they don't even know that anyone's chasing them. Imagine how hard it'll be to get any valuable information if they do."

There was no argument against that, but this still didn't feel right. Weiss imagined herself in this situation, with Winter being the one hiding the information from _her_. She'd be hurt, more than words could describe. After their mother's episode, Winter—even though she was away with the military—became the only true family Weiss had left. She was the only person Weiss currently trusted wholeheartedly. At least in this hypothetical, with Weiss having moved hundreds of miles away from home to start anew, it would give Winter a modicum of an excuse. Ruby and Yang saw each other every single day.

"This is a bad idea, Ruby," Weiss warned. "You know keeping this from her can only go poorly."

"It doesn't matter," said Ruby. "It's my choice. And for now, I believe this is the right one. If we hit a dead-end, Yang will be the first person I talk to."

"That could be sooner rather than later, with how things have gone so far."

Ruby, strangely, smiled. "I have an idea about that. Actually, Yang just gave it to me."

Weiss waited. After a few seconds, she grew impatient and said, " _Well?_ "

"We'll talk about it after we eat. Yang's probably getting worried." With that, she darted out of the room to avoid Weiss's inevitable objection. Left with no choice, Weiss followed after her.


	6. V1C6: Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my beta readers on FF.net: 0neWhoWanders, Bardothren, and I Write Big. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.

Ruby joined her sister at the couch with her pieces of pizza while Weiss still stood in the kitchen, holding her plate that contained a single slice. She watched as Yang, kicked back and holding a plate under her chin with her mechanical hand, took a bite.

"Don't you have a table?" Weiss asked, appalled.

Both sisters gave her puzzled expressions.

"It's right there." Yang gestured to the coffee table her feet were currently resting on.

"I mean a _dining_ table."

"No. What for?"

"To have somewhere proper to eat!"

"But the couch has a better view of the TV," said Ruby. "And it's more comfortable."

"But what if someone spills something? It could ruin the cushions or your carpet."

Yang shrugged carelessly. "Then we'd clean. What's the big deal?"

"Come on." Ruby wiped pepperoni grease from the corner of her mouth. "You're telling us you've _never_ eaten anywhere but at a table?"

"Of course! You have to have somewhere to put your silverware and your napkins."

Yang rolled her eyes. "You don't eat pizza with silverware, and there are napkins on the coffee table."

"Just sit down, Weiss," said Ruby. "You don't have to be so uptight all the time."

"I'm _not_ uptight!"

Both sisters laughed, which caused Weiss to flush. Dubiously, she walked over to the living room and sat down next to Ruby, leaving a whole couch cushion of distance between them. She held the plate near her face and took a modest bite.

"Ayy!" Yang lightly clapped with her wrists, as both hands were full. "You did it!"

Still feeling as if she was being mocked, Weiss swallowed her pride and bit off some more.

It tasted heavenly—though, to be fair, _anything_ would when compared to her current diet. Before college, Weiss had only ever had gourmet pizza. When she started living on her own, she had her first experiences with fast food. Somehow, simple marinara with cheese and pepperoni tasted just as good as the numerous spices and toppings the family's personal chef threw on.

"So," Yang said after a silence. "How do you two know each other?"

Weiss and Ruby exchanged a look.

"We met online," said Ruby. "I was looking for help with my problem, she responded, and we got to talking—"

"To which I explained that a semblance can't be cured," Weiss said firmly.

Yang sighed. "We keep trying to tell her. She just doesn't listen."

" _Anyway_ ," Ruby continued, scowling, "I reached out to her again after I got my assignment, and then she agreed to come over today and help me out with it."

"How's it coming along?" Yang asked.

"Alright. First project of the semester, so nothing all that difficult."

Weiss watched Ruby curiously. She wondered what she was studying. A fabricated project like AI theory suggested something technology-related. Weiss opened her mouth to ask, but then she realized that she should already know the answer, according to this fiction Ruby had created. So, instead, she addressed something else that had been nagging at her.

"This is a really nice place you have," she said casually.

"Yeah," said Yang. "View could be better, but I can't complain."

"It can't be cheap."

"Our dad pays for it."

Mystery solved. "Oh, really? What does he do?"

Yang opened her mouth, but Ruby answered first. "He's a business owner."

Though she didn't like it, Weiss had to appreciate the irony. So she, a member of a very well-known family, was now poor, and Ruby—this simple, aggravating girl—was living in luxury off of a successful father.

"Would I have heard of him?" she asked.

"Probably not." Ruby took a bite and quickly swallowed it. "So, Yang—working on anything interesting?"

"Not really," Yang answered. "Still just rounding up White Flame goons. Haven't had an interesting case come to our precinct in a bit."

Weiss perked up. "The White Flame?"

"Yeah. Once we get all the stragglers, they'll be done for good, this time. Not as much of a threat without their boss."

Weiss stared at Yang, doubtful. Nothing short of death would stop a man like Adam Taurus for good.

As the minutes pressed on, Ruby and Yang managed to get to their third slices while Weiss was still finishing up her first. She was typically a slow eater and had never had a massive appetite, but her progress was even slower than usual. She was distracted, fascinated by how easily and lightly the sisters communicated with each other. And she couldn't help but admire the prosthetic arm, the dexterity of it and how effortlessly Yang controlled it.

"I won't be offended if you ask, you know," said the amputee in question.

"What?" Weiss said, startled.

Yang flexed her mechanical fingers. "You want to know how I lost the arm. I get it."

"Oh. No. Honestly, I was just interested in the technology behind it. Did the STC make that?"

Yang snorted. "Definitely not. This was a custom order that shipped from overseas. Still not as good as the original, but our dad went full stop to get the best of the best."

"Seriously," said Ruby, staring at Weiss. "What's with you and the STC?"

Weiss ignored her. "So, how _did_ you lose it?"

Yang grinned and leaned forward. "Ah. Now _that_ is a great story. I was sixteen, out camping in the woods south of Mistral. It was a cold night, the fire crackling, and dead silent. Then, all of a sudden, a bear came—"

"She lost it in a house fire," Ruby interrupted.

"Ruby!" Yang complained.

"She wasn't going to believe you lost it while wrestling a bear." Ruby rolled her eyes at Weiss, smiling in spite of herself. "She always does this. And she wants you to believe she still _won_ , too."

"I would've," Yang mumbled.

Weiss laughed. A short, honest laugh that was quickly suppressed.

"Fine," said Yang. "A fire broke out at a girlfriend's house when I was sixteen, and it took my arm. Pretty boring."

"Boring? That must've been horrible!"

Yang shrugged. "Yeah, but it wasn't even the scariest day of my life. But _that's_ a tale for another day. What about you? Got a story behind that scar?"

Weiss touched her fingers to it. She looked from Yang to Ruby, hesitant. "Not really. I got careless while tuning a piano. A wire snapped and cut me."

"A piano wire did _that_?" Ruby said in disbelief.

Weiss nodded and started working on her crust.

"I didn't think they had that kind of elasticity."

"You'd be surprised."

Ruby didn't seem convinced, but Weiss would tell her the truth another time. It was too recent to just bring up as an anecdote over dinner.

As the conversation moved on to another topic, Weiss swallowed the last of her food. In all, despite the disappointing visit to the county clerk's office, it was a rather enjoyable evening.

* * *

Weiss had ended the night by giving Ruby her number. Whether this was a good decision came into question the very next day, when Weiss had made it perfectly clear that she'd be too busy to meet up again. It was the early afternoon, and she was just leaving one of Vale's other prisons—as a continuation of the contract given to her by the mayor—when her scroll buzzed. Ruby's name was on the screen.

Thankful that she hadn't called even a minute sooner, Weiss accepted the call. "Ruby, I told you—"

"Weiss Schnee," came Ruby's voice.

She stopped in her tracks, stunned. "Pardon me?"

"That's your name, isn't it?"

"Where did you hear that?" Weiss demanded.

"Aha! So it's true!"

" _How_ did you find out?"

"Yang remembered hearing about your attack when she was at work today. I _knew_ a piano wire couldn't cut that deep."

"You are utterly tactless," Weiss fumed.

"What? I'm not making fun of you for it."

"We'll talk tomorrow, _as planned_. Don't call me unless it's important."

"But—"

Weiss hung up.

* * *

Ruby entered the car and fastened her seatbelt without a word. Weiss started the ignition and pulled out onto the road, not giving so much as a glance at the silver-eyed girl. The drive ensued wordlessly, the occasional directions from the GPS on Weiss's scroll being the only source of noise.

After several minutes of this, Ruby spoke up. "I wasn't _trying_ to be insensitive, you know. If you hadn't hung up, I'd—"

"I don't want to talk about this," said Weiss. "If I'd wanted to, I would have told you the truth. Did you even consider that? That just _maybe_ there was a reason I lied about how I got my scar?"

"But you saw a superhero up close. That's _so_ cool!"

"There was nothing 'cool' about that experience, Ruby. I thought I was going to die."

Weiss heard Ruby shift uncomfortably, but didn't look at her. A tense silence followed.

"I'm sorry," Ruby finally said. Then, after more awkwardness, "So . . . You're a Schnee, huh? I guess that explains your obsession with the STC. And I thought your roots looked a little light."

Weiss made a mental note to buy more hair dye. "Just don't go shouting about it. And I don't have an _obsession_. I distanced myself from the STC to pursue my current path years before my father drove it into the ground. But they were a leading tech giant for a reason—their technology was simply superior."

"Not so much near the end, though," said Ruby. "Their competitors started to catch up a lot after they fired their CTO."

"It's not like they had much of a choice."

Ruby didn't state whether she agreed.

When the GPS showed that they were just a few minutes away from their destination, Weiss spoke up again. "Tell me about these private investigators."

"Sun and Neptune?" said Ruby. "They're great. Sun's always willing to help out a friend, and is pretty wise; I don't think much scares him. Neptune can appear dumb on the surface, but he knows what he's doing and—well, he's just _cool_. He did try to be a cop once, but failed the personality exam."

"I meant," said Weiss, "are you sure we can trust them?"

"Definitely. They're good friends, and really good at keeping secrets. Neptune's a bit of a gossip, but can keep his mouth shut when it's important."

"And the thing you said about as few people knowing about this as possible?"

"We need the help. It's just two more people. You don't need to worry about them leaking anything—I promise."

"Alright, then," said Weiss. "I'll take your word for it."

They finally arrived at an office building, half an hour after their departure. Ruby confirmed it was the right one, so Weiss parked and they both entered the building. An old security guard sat behind the front desk, who simply waved at Ruby as they passed and continued reading his newspaper. There was an elevator, but Ruby walked right past it toward a door marked with a staircase symbol.

"What are you doing?" Weiss asked.

"They're just up a level," said Ruby. "This is faster."

So they climbed the stairs and soon found themselves entering through a glass door into a decently-sized room that looked nothing like a private investigator's office. The only things that fit the description were the two desks positioned in the far corners and the boxes of files piled up on the floor beside them. Other than that, you wouldn't be crazy for thinking this was where a small college fraternity held their parties. There was a fridge next to some couches and a coffee table to the left of the door. A ping-pong table—which looked to double as a foosball table—stood off to the right. On the wall above that were some neon signs, a miniature basketball hoop, and a dartboard. And to top it all off, a disco ball hung in the middle of the room, low enough that Weiss would have to duck her head to walk beneath it if she weren't so short.

"Come on," Ruby muttered, walking to sit on a couch and motioning for Weiss to follow.

Both of the desks at the end of the room were occupied. A blonde-haired man wearing a button-down shirt—with only two buttons hooked—sat behind the one on the left, consoling a tearful woman seated across from him. Taking up the remaining desk, playing with a Rubik's cube, was a blue-haired man with goggles strapped to his forehead. He gave a confident smile when they came in, but didn't attempt to speak to them. Weiss was pretty sure she could guess which man was which.

A minute later, the woman marched out of the room, wiping furious tears from her eyes. The blonde man stood and said, "Yikes," while unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his abs.

"Cheating husband?" Ruby guessed.

"Yep. Only got three years worth of evidence."

" _Three years?_ And she needed _you_ to tell her?"

"Some people are just oblivious," said the one with the goggles, who had strode halfway across the room and was now looking at Weiss. "I'm Neptune. You must be Weiss, but perhaps I could call you . . . some other time?" He winked.

"Oh," was all she could think to say as her cheeks grew slightly warmer.

The blonde rolled his eyes. "Don't mind him. I'm Sun." He turned to Ruby. "So tell us about this important case you had for us."

"It's my mom," said Ruby.

Sun sighed and shook his head at the ceiling. Neptune's face took on an expression of pity as he said, "This again?" His tone sounded like he was about to tell a child their dog had died.

"No, it's different this time!" Ruby insisted. "We have a lead!"

That seemed to interest them, though both were still apprehensive.

"A lead?" Sun said doubtfully.

"Honest." Ruby turned to Weiss. "Tell them."

Weiss started. "What? _All_ of it?"

"Yes! I said you could trust them."

All eyes were on Weiss. She looked from Sun, who was watching her expectantly, to Neptune, who flashed an encouraging smile that made her heart beat slightly faster, and back to Ruby. Weiss had never even officially decided that she trusted _her_ yet. But, despite her annoyances, Ruby had this unerring purity to her that made it difficult to doubt her. Weiss still needed to make a ruling on the girl's sense of judgment, but she trusted her.

So Weiss explained about her semblance, the evolution, and the discoveries she'd accidentally made with it. Once she'd finished, Ruby stepped in to recount the rest. Weiss had been prepared to interject with a correction or piece of information Ruby had left out, but the need didn't arise. By the time they'd said all there was to say, both men had sat down and were looking thoughtful.

"Wow," said Neptune. "That's . . . definitely concerning."

"Bole Maze," Sun muttered.

"Have you heard of him?" Weiss asked.

"No. I wish I did. And you have no idea why he was imprisoned?"

The two women shook their heads.

"It didn't come up while you were treating him?" Sun said to Weiss.

"No. It's a relatively short process, and that information wasn't deemed necessary. And I never got the chance to ask afterward."

There was a silence. Sun stood and began to pace across the room while Neptune continued to stare pensively at the floor, absently toying with the strap of his goggles.

"So?" Ruby said after a minute of this. "Will you help us?"

"What does Yang think of all this?" Sun said in an almost accusatory way.

Ruby scratched her neck. "She, uh . . . she doesn't know. And it's going to _stay_ that way."

Sun didn't look at all surprised. "Look. I get why you'd want to hide this from her, but—"

"Save me the lecture," Ruby interrupted. "I've already gotten one from Weiss. My mind is made up. If this goes nowhere, I'll tell her and let her and her coworkers take over."

Sun and Neptune shared a look.

"We want to help you," said Neptune.

"We're just as eager to see those bastards brought to justice," said Sun.

"But think about what it is you're getting into," Neptune continued. "This woman—if she's even the leader, like you're assuming—and her thugs or possible organization. Look how much they've done in the short time you've known of their existence. Do you really want to cross them?"

"We're aware of the risks," Weiss said before Ruby could open her mouth. "We've weighed our options. And as long as it's possible to keep this discreet, that's the best one. We don't know how powerful these malefactors are. They've been at large for two years at the very least. They could have people inside the police department for all we know. If that's the case, handing them this information could end disastrously."

"That's a bit of a leap," said Sun.

"But the one risk I'm not willing to take," said Ruby, giving Weiss an appreciative look. "We can be cautious. What can a detective do that we can't, anyway?"

"Question witnesses, investigate crime scenes, scour police records—" Neptune listed off.

"There _are_ no witnesses or crime scenes," Weiss cut in. "And if they attacked the county clerk's database, what reason do we have to assume the police's files are safe?"

Sun looked at her with a scrutinous gaze. "No offense, but why are you even here? What do you have to gain? You could've walked right out the door after you told Ruby what you saw; you could've taken it straight to the police without going to her at all. What's in this for you?"

Ruby parted her lips, looking as if she were about to jump to her defense, but then she closed them. She watched Weiss, waiting to hear her answer.

Weiss bit her tongue; she'd expected this, but still wasn't prepared for it. One thing was certain—she knew what it felt like to be helpless where it came to her mother, and didn't want Ruby to feel that same way. But that wasn't the whole of it. There was something deeper driving her, just below the surface, but she couldn't figure it out.

"Other than the fact that the alternative requires destroying my career?" Weiss said. "I just want to do what I can to help. If you'd seen that woman, how blasé she was about committing such a heinous act, you wouldn't feel safe sleeping at night with someone that sinister on the loose. Even her own lackey seemed terrified of her."

"I'd say he was right to, given that he's now dead," Neptune commented.

Ruby put her hand on Weiss's shoulder and stared at Sun. "I trust her."

Weiss made her verdict—Ruby's judgment was lacking. Ruby had no reason to trust her. But the fact that she did brought a warm feeling to Weiss's chest. She didn't even try to shove off Ruby's hand.

The two men took a step back and put their heads together, talking in low voices. Weiss observed them, unable to hear what they were saying. At one point, Sun gave Neptune a playful shove, and the latter smirked. After thirty seconds, they seemed to come to an agreement and turned back to face them.

"We're in," said Neptune.

"Yes!" Ruby jumped up and punched the air, grinning. "What's your rate again?"

"Come on," Sun said dismissively. "We don't charge for friends."

"Or fair maidens." Neptune gave Weiss a sideways smile that showed off his teeth.

Sun rolled his eyes. "It's pro bono."

"This could be a huge time investment, though," said Ruby.

"Forget it," said Sun. "Now, let's track us down a killer!"

"So here's what I'm thinking, for our first move," said Neptune. "We need to find out what was said during this Maze guy's trial."

"Um, yeah," said Ruby. "I just said we already tried that."

"But you failed!" Neptune's tone implied that this was somehow a good thing. "They really went out of their way to destroy the files. That pretty much confirms that they contained something crucial. So we _know_ you two were on the right track."

"It was my idea to go to the county clerk's office," Weiss volunteered.

"And a good one, too," Neptune complimented.

"Okay, but how are we supposed to find out what happened during the trial if the files are gone?" said Ruby.

"Well, we find someone who was there," said Sun. "Duh."

"Do you have any ideas?" Weiss asked.

"I do. Just give us a couple of days, and we'll call you if we learn anything."

"What? That's it?" said Ruby.

"Well, yeah," said Sun. "We've pretty much covered everything."

"What are _we_ supposed to do?" said Weiss.

"Sit tight, relax," Neptune offered. "Don't worry. We've got this."

"This is _our_ investigation, remember," said Ruby. "You're just helping."

"So allow us to help," said Sun. "Two days, we'll reconvene and go from there."

"That sounds reasonable," said Weiss.

Ruby didn't seem pleased, but eventually said, "Fine."

* * *

Several minutes later, Weiss slid into the driver's seat and clicked her seatbelt into place. She was just putting the keys in the ignition when Ruby, who was focused on her scroll, said, "Don't start the car yet."

"Why not?" said Weiss.

"Because I have an idea. Just give me a minute."

So Weiss leaned back in her seat and waited, watching as Ruby typed away. " _'Sit tight'_ ," Ruby muttered disdainfully. After a handful of seconds, she leaned back and seemed to be waiting too. Eventually, she looked over at Weiss and stared at her strangely.

"What?" Weiss demanded.

"Why _are_ you helping me?" she asked.

"Didn't I just answer that?" Weiss said unconvincingly.

Ruby waited.

Weiss sighed. "Would you believe me if I told you I don't know?"

Ruby didn't respond right away. "Yes."

Neither said anything else for a bit. Ruby's scroll buzzed, so she replied, and then she was waiting again. Meanwhile, Weiss pondered.

"I suppose," she finally said, "I feel responsible."

Ruby looked confused. "For what?"

"You. I chose to go to you before the police, and now you're on this path because of that decision. I think I've been struck with this irrational idea that I _have_ to tag along and keep you from doing anything stupid."

"You know you don't, though . . . right? You can bow out whenever you want to."

"I'm aware."

Some more time passed without a word until Ruby's scroll buzzed once more. The girl read it, then gave a triumphant, "Yes!"

"What?" said Weiss.

"I'll tell you on the way. Go here." Ruby tapped away on her scroll for a moment, then Weiss felt her own vibrate. She checked it to find an address that looked familiar to her, and then set it into her GPS.

"Where are we going?" she asked once the car was moving.

"My friend Jaune's place," Ruby answered. "He was at the trial."

"Jaune," Weiss repeated. A second later, it clicked. "Wait, Jaune _Arc_?"

"You know him?" Ruby said, surprised.

"I treated him once."

"Oh, right!" Ruby smacked her forehead. "Yeah, he's the one who showed me your ad. He never said he went through with hiring you."

Weiss remained silent, not wanting to bring up how poorly that particular contract had gone. Instead, she said, "Why was he at the trial?"

"He goes to a lot of trials to take notes. He's studying to get into law school."

"Law school? _Him?_ He . . . didn't exactly seem the type."

Ruby shrugged. "His oldest sister's a lawyer; I think he's trying to take after her. Says he wants to be a prosecutor."

"Hmm," was Weiss's only comment. After a silence, she asked, "Why did you wait until now to ask him?"

"I, uh . . . didn't think of it," Ruby said sheepishly. "I was kind of hung up on the files until now. Probably should have considered people as a source of information a little sooner."

"Yep." Weiss decided not to mention that that had also slipped _her_ mind.

They arrived a short time later and traveled up the sidewalk toward the dingy apartment building where Weiss's semblance evolved. As they walked, she couldn't help looking nervously across the street, almost expecting to see those men standing there again. A little farther ahead, she could see the piece of wall she'd been pinned against, and vividly recalled the smell of the scarred man's breath and the venom dripping from his voice. Her heart began to beat a little faster, and her scar twinged, so faintly she probably imagined it.

"You alright?" Ruby asked, who must not have missed her sudden trepidation.

"I'm fine," Weiss said firmly, unclenching her fists.

The pair entered the building and climbed the staircase. Ruby had to knock twice before the door opened, revealing the face of a man Weiss had never expected to see again.

"Hey, Ruby," said Jaune, his voice cheery. He looked better than before—his hair wasn't as unkempt, his posture was better, and he even smiled. But, despite appearing happy, there was still an unmistakable darkness to his eyes.

"Hi, Jaune," said Ruby. "Got the notes?"

"Yeah. Just come in . . ." His voice trailed off as he stared at Weiss, then there was a flicker of comprehension, and his eyes widened. "You."

"Oh, right," Ruby said awkwardly. "This is Weiss. Oh, but you already knew that. She's helping me with my . . . project."

To Weiss's surprise, Jaune smiled. "Cool. Nice to see you again."

He stepped aside to allow them in. His apartment was in a better state than before, with not as much junk lying about and a pleasant odor in the air. It smelled like air freshener, though. That, coupled with the wrapper sticking out from under the couch and the dishes piled in the sink, made Weiss suspect the cleaning had been hastily done.

Jaune looked from Weiss to Ruby. "So you two are friends now? Interesting. I'll go grab my notes." He turned and disappeared into what was presumably a bedroom.

They waited silently, but after twenty seconds, Weiss noticed something. "You're staring at me again."

"Sorry," said Ruby. "It's just . . . was he right?"

"About what?"

"Us being friends."

Weiss studied her face, unsure if she was being serious. "We hardly know each other."

"So? That's a lot of what friendship is, isn't it? Getting to know each other?"

Weiss sighed. "Are we in middle school?"

"Look. Despite your icy attitude, I like you, okay? And I want us to be friends."

"Fine. _Yes_ , dolt, we're friends." Though she found the entire conversation rather childish, Weiss felt oddly content saying the words. Growing up, her family name and status as a paragon had alienated her and driven away her peers. Because of that, she'd only ever had one real friend, whom she hadn't spoken to in years. Now she officially had another.

Ruby beamed. "Can I hug you now?"

Weiss gave her a flat look. "No."

Jaune returned, holding a spiral notebook. Ruby eagerly made to grab for it, but he held it out of her reach. He was more than a head taller than her, so that was pretty easy. "Now hold on just a second. I still don't exactly know _why_ you want this."

"I told you," said Ruby. "It's for a project."

"You're majoring in engineering."

"I didn't say it was for school."

"Ruby. This guy was charged with sexual assault and accused of working with some dangerous people. I need to know what you're getting into."

"It's nothing!" Ruby insisted, but this only seemed to make Jaune more suspicious.

"You asked for this guy _by name_. You wouldn't have done that if you were just doing general research on—"

"She's helping me," Weiss abruptly said.

He stared at her. "With what?"

"I'm doing research on the prevention of mental illness and want to see what kind of a correlation a person's criminal history might have." Weiss bit her tongue and studied Jaune's reaction.

"Yes! See?" Ruby said, a little too enthusiastically. "Nothing dangerous."

"But why this guy in particular?" he asked.

"Bole Maze was a patient of mine. The city has contracted me to heal prisoners, and he was one of them. I intended to start with someone with a more mild case as my first source of data before moving on to someone more severely ill, so I chose him."

"Oh." The tension vanished from his shoulders. He handed the notebook to Ruby, then immediately snatched it back. "Er, wait. Sorry." He flipped it open to a specific page before giving it to her again.

"Thanks, Jaune!" Ruby grinned and began reading.

Weiss meant to stand next to her so she could see it as well, but then Jaune gestured his head toward the kitchen.

"Hey. Can I talk to you for a second?" he said.

"Sure," Weiss said tentatively.

They walked out of earshot of Ruby, then Jaune's expression turned serious. When he spoke, his tone was cynical. "Did you tell her?"

"Tell her what?"

"About . . ." He lowered his voice even further. "Pyrrha."

"No. I hold myself to patient confidentiality."

"So you haven't told _anyone_?"

"Of course not."

He sighed in relief. "Good."

An awkward silence followed, eventually broken by Weiss. "I don't know _what_ I saw, and I won't ask. But I can assure you it wasn't intentional, and I apologize."

It took him a few seconds to give a hollow, "Thanks."

"And . . . thank you—for not reporting me for misusing my semblance."

"Right." Jaune contorted his face to look a little brighter, then called, "Ruby!"

Ruby looked up, her eyes for some reason wide.

"Did you take a picture yet?" Jaune asked. "I've still got some homework I gotta get to today."

"Oh!" Ruby fumbled her scroll out of her pocket and then used the camera to capture the notes. "Got it!"

Weiss followed Jaune back over to her. He took the notebook back and said, "Sorry. I don't mean to kick you out, but I'm sort of behind."

"Not a problem," said Ruby. "Thank you for this. Really."

He smiled and then opened the door. "I'll see you at school tomorrow. And Weiss . . . I'll see you around, I guess."

"Bye, Jaune!" Ruby left first, receiving a pat on the back from him on her way out. Weiss followed her.

"What did you learn?" she asked urgently as soon as the door closed behind them.

Ruby showed her the photo she'd just taken. "Maze was working for Roman Torchwick!"


	7. V1C7: Mischief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my beta readers on FF.net: Bardothren, I Write Big, and 0neWhoWanders. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.

"Who?" said Weiss. The name sounded vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn't place it.

Ruby gaped at her. "Roman Torchwick!"

"Saying the name twice doesn't help me understand who he is."

"Don't you watch the news?"

"From time to time, but not frequently."

Ruby continued to stare as if Weiss was an alien, then pulled her scroll back toward herself and began typing. After half a minute, she found what she was looking for and stood next to Weiss so that they could both see the screen. She hit play on a video that appeared to be security footage of a bank.

"What am I looking at?" Weiss said. All she could see were ordinary people using ATMs and speaking to the tellers.

"Give it a second," said Ruby.

After some time, a man sauntered into the center of the room and turned to look directly at the camera. He wore crisply pressed pants and a fine pair of shoes polished so meticulously that the video managed to capture their shine. His white suit looked tailored to fit him perfectly with a collar popped up to reach higher than his jawline. A bowler hat, a relic from a bygone era, looked right at home sitting over his bright orange hair. Bangs fashionably hid his right eye while the other, pine green, was accented by dark eyeliner. To tie it all together, one hand dexterously twirled a zippo lighter as the other held a hooked cane on his shoulder. The man was mischief personified, complemented by a strange hint of elegance.

He shut the lighter, tipped his hat, and then the video ended.

"What was that?" Weiss asked.

"That was Roman Torchwick!" Ruby said impatiently. "A few weeks ago, when he robbed that bank down Chestnut Street."

"Oh!" said Weiss, finally placing the memory. "Right, I heard about that. Why did the video end? Why did he look right at the camera?"

"That's his MO. He walks in, makes sure he's seen by the cameras, and then cuts them off. After that, he's in and out with the money before the police ever get there. This is about the tenth one he's hit so far."

"How is that possible?"

"No one knows. That's why he's such a big deal. How do you not know about him? He's been at large since, like, the start of the year, almost."

"Well, I've only lived in Vale since June," Weiss defended. "How's he not been caught yet?"

Ruby shrugged. "He could be an unregistered paragon. I'm not sure. But he's not afraid of being caught—he _wants_ everyone to know what he's done."

Though the video had gone black, Weiss could still vividly picture Torchwick's face. Was it confidence she saw in his expression, or arrogance? Most likely both.

"What did Jaune's notes say exactly?" said Weiss. "Let me read them."

Ruby navigated to the picture again and handed the scroll to Weiss, then glanced at Jaune's door. "Come on. Let's not talk about this here."

Weiss scanned the page as they descended the staircase. Jaune's handwriting was suboptimal, so it took her a bit to decipher it. Maze was arrested for harassing a woman he met at a bar and tried for sexual assault, but the prosecutor had brought another allegation to the courtroom. There were two proven instances of contact between him and Roman Torchwick, and other evidence to suggest Maze had been affiliated with his criminal activity. But there wasn't enough to charge him, though Jaune did take note of how the prosecuting attorney seemed absolutely certain of his guilt in that regard. The trouble Weiss and Ruby had gone through to learn this pretty much cemented it as fact.

As the two women reached the ground level and left the building, Weiss once again took a quick look across the street—no one was there, so she returned her eyes to the scroll. She was still so engrossed in it when they reached her car that she would've walked right past it had Ruby not caught her arm. They slid into the front seats, but Weiss didn't even bother taking out her keys yet.

"You realize what this means?" Ruby said after Weiss handed her back her scroll.

"It means we have more to speculate about," said Weiss, "and just as little evidence to work off of."

"What are you talking about? This proves Torchwick had something to do with, you know, what happened to my mom."

"This doesn't _prove_ anything, other than that Maze was a creep. All we know is that he worked for or with Torchwick, but not when or to what extent."

"But this is a new lead! We're making progress!"

"I never said we weren't. But you're jumping to baseless conclusions, which won't get us anywhere. Maze could have been working for the killer, who was working for Torchwick; or he and Torchwick could have both been working for the killer; or he could have been working for the killer before leaving her to work for Torchwick. _We don't know_."

Ruby's shoulders slumped. "Oh."

"With luck, finding out how Maze is connected to Torchwick will help us understand his link to the killer."

"So what do we do now?"

Weiss started the car. "We find out what we can about Torchwick while we wait for Neptune and Sun to get back to us. They still might learn something we haven't."

"Ugh. _Two days_ ," Ruby grumbled. "Fine. Can you take me home now?"

* * *

Weiss stalked the depths of the Emerald Forest, her silver rapier clasped in her left hand. The sun was out, the clouds were sparse, and the wind was still. She'd been searching for fifteen minutes now, or at least that's what it felt like. Only two windows had appeared so far. Finally, a muffled rustling sounded from her right. She paused, and her grip tightened.

A moment later, something large burst from the trees and came shooting toward her. Weiss expertly rolled out of the way and found herself face-to-face with a giant snake, whose head was almost as long as her body. It tensed back, showing off its many fangs. Then the other one came, which she easily evaded; she'd been expecting it.

The King Taijitu was a monstrous snake with two heads, one on either end. One half of it was white and the other black. Both sets of beady red eyes glared at her. The white head lunged while the black one coiled around in a circle, trying to trap her. Weiss jumped at the last second and landed on the white head. She ran the length of its body, repeatedly slashing at it as she did so, until she reached the ground outside of the ring it had created. It hissed angrily from both ends, wisps of black smoke emanating from along the white side.

She feinted running toward the left until the black head snapped at her. She abruptly stopped and jumped back as it smacked into the ground where she would've been standing, then drove her sword through its left eye, immediately withdrawing it. That head recoiled as the other came to take revenge. Weiss stood her ground and thrust her sword upward, straight through the roof of its mouth. She wrenched the rapier free and took a step back as the white head went limp and fell to the ground. Her arm stung from where a fang had scratched her.

A forked tongue flapped from between the remaining head's jaws as it hissed as loudly as it could. Enraged, it no longer cared about biting her. Instead, it swung forward to smack her off her feet, and succeeded. Weiss flew back and collided with a tree, crumpling to the ground as her head spun. Her sword laid on the ground, ten feet away. The Grimm reared to attack once more as she struggled to a single knee. It lunged, and she was too slow to dodge, but, incredibly, it missed. She dove forward and retrieved her weapon. When she stood, she noticed how thick the smoke pouring from its punctured eye was.

That could be exploited.

Weiss ran diagonally toward it, staying on its left side. When it tried to get at her again, it misjudged her position and missed once more. She used this opportunity to land several more hits along its body and hastened away from its reach. One last time, the beast attempted to bite at her; she jumped back, and its fangs dug into the earth before her. She brought her sword down and stabbed it where its brain would be if Grimm had organs. The King Taijitu stilled, then disintegrated into a cloud of dark vapor.

Weiss sheathed her rapier and sat down on her knees. She felt snowflakes touching her exposed skin as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she was back in her client's living room, feeling fatigued. She removed her hand from the girl's forehead and ran the back of it across her own brow.

The client, barely out of her teens, appeared disoriented.

"How do you feel?" Weiss asked.

"I'm not sure," said May. "I think . . . lighter?"

"Is that a good thing?"

She paused. "Yeah. I definitely feel better. So it really worked?"

Weiss nodded. "You no longer have bipolar disorder."

A broad smile slowly spread across her face. "That's awesome."

"You are going to have to take measures from here on out, though, in order to maintain your mental health," Weiss warned. "Your disorder was a large part of you. Without it, your mind is opened up to vulnerabilities, so it'll take some time for you to feel whole again."

May's brow furrowed. "What do you mean? I feel great."

"And that's normal. But it's possible that stressful situations might have a larger effect on you than others for a time, so I suggest avoiding them when possible. Meditation is advisable, as it can help hone your new mental state and prevent new afflictions from setting in. Some people have found keeping journals helpful, so they can record their thoughts and moods to definitively see a lack of symptoms—or more easily spot new ones."

"Wow," the girl said dejectedly. "Do people relapse often?"

Weiss felt her scroll vibrate, but she ignored it. "No. Rarely, thanks in large part to taking these precautions."

"Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, I can do all that. Um, here." She pulled a check out of her pocket and handed it to Weiss. "Thank you—so much."

Weiss examined it before placing it in her purse, giving a grateful smile. She always felt weird when accepting payment. Though Weiss's rate was perfectly reasonable, her mother used to do this for free. But she had had not only a successful father, but an honorable one, too. Weiss didn't get that luxury—she had no choice but to charge for her services. But the gratification of alleviating a person's long-term struggles was worth almost as much as the lien.

Before Weiss could state her thanks, the front door opened and an older woman stepped inside. She placed her keys on a hook and started toward the kitchen, but then noticed the two sitting in the living room.

"May? Who is this?" the woman demanded.

"This is Weiss, mom. She's a psychotherapist."

"And what's she doing here? You already have a therapist, and you didn't ask my permission to have anyone over."

"I'm not a regular psychotherapist, ma'am," Weiss explained. "I specialize in curing mental disorders."

"May's condition can't be cured."

"Under normal circumstances, it can't. But thanks to my semblance, I can—"

" _Semblance?_ " the woman repeated harshly. She stared at May, horror-struck. "You brought one of _them_ into our home?"

Weiss's face fell. So it was going to be one of _those_ days. She briefly closed her eyes and sighed, resigning herself to the shouting that was about to ensue.

"Mom, you don't under—" May started.

"I'll deal with you later." May's mother turned her attention to Weiss, glaring and pointing at the door. "Get out!"

Weiss stood her ground, doing her best to keep calm. "Ma'am—"

"I said get the hell out, lusus!"

"Mom!" May exclaimed.

"How _dare_ you?" said Weiss, wounded.

"I dare to say whatever I damn well please in my own house!" said May's mother, her hand hovering by a kitchen drawer. "Now leave before I call the cops!"

Weiss bit her tongue and balled her fists, struggling to not shout back. Instead of lambasting the woman, she grabbed her purse and marched out the front door without another word. She fumed all the way to her car, then gripped the steering wheel so tightly it hurt.

She'd moved to Vale to get _away_ from this. But bigots existed everywhere, regardless if you were in a city notorious for its discrimination or one more famously diverse. It didn't matter to these people that her semblance couldn't harm someone if she tried. She'd always be dangerous in their eyes—an animal with freakish powers.

After a few minutes of trying to steady her breathing, she calmed down enough to remember to check her scroll. It was a text from Ruby.

_U busy today?_

Even though that was the last thing she had to do today, Weiss was tempted to say yes and drive straight home. But she decided otherwise.

_No, why? And it's spelled, "You"._

She didn't have to wait long for Ruby's reply, which began with an emoji of a face sticking its tongue out.

_Sun said we can go over today if u have nothing else going on. Meet u there now?_

Weiss sighed, then sent back, _Alright._

* * *

Weiss arrived first, so she took the opportunity to talk to Neptune while Sun was poring over files for another case. She found Neptune to be very charming and—though it wasn't very sophisticated—agreed with Ruby that he's "just _cool_ ". He was very easy to talk to, and the fact that he seemed to harbor no judgments about her being a paragon made him all the more appealing in her eyes.

"So you haven't been in Vale long?" he said. "Must not have seen a whole lot of it, then."

"Not yet," said Weiss. "I've been exploring it little by little. It is a truly remarkable city, from my limited experience."

"How does it match up to life in Atlas?"

"It's better, somewhat. It's warmer. There isn't nearly as much prejudice here, though it's not entirely absent."

"Yeah. People suck sometimes. So. How about this? Since you're a newbie to this city and I've lived here for a few years, I could take you out tomorrow. We could see the sights, have a little tour, I could show you some of the best hotspots, maybe wrap it up with a nice dinner. What do you say?"

"Oh!" Weiss suppressed a smile. "Well, I—"

"I'm here!" Ruby announced on her sudden arrival, catching everyone's attention and cutting Weiss short.

"Hey, Ruby." Neptune waved.

"Alright!" Sun clapped once and stood up. "Now that you're both here, you might want to sit down. We have good news and bad news."

Weiss looked back to Neptune to see him mouth the word, "Later," before walking over to stand by Sun. So she sat next to Ruby on the couch, slightly disgruntled, and waited to hear what they had to say.

"Good news first," Ruby said eagerly.

"Well, it's not particularly _good_ news, per se," said Sun, "but we learned things. I spoke to Blake—I didn't tell her anything, of course—and she asked the judge about Maze's trial. The only charge they got on him was sexual assault, which doesn't seem to help us at all."

"I managed to track down the victim," Neptune provided. "Asked her a few questions, but she never met the guy until the night of the incident. And she didn't match the killer's description, if you were wondering—brunette, short."

"They weren't wondering that," said Sun.

Neither woman disagreed.

"You never know!" Neptune said defensively. "She's a dead-end, is what I'm saying."

" _Anyway_ ," Sun continued, "there was nothing too concrete other than that at the trial, but it does seem pretty clear that—"

"Maze was working for Torchwick," Ruby finished for him.

Sun blinked. "Maze had _ties_ to Torchwick; how strong or weak or of what nature, it's unclear. How did _you_ know?"

"We chose not to 'sit tight'. I found out I had a friend who was in the audience, so we talked to him."

"And you didn't think to tell us, save us a bit of time?" said Neptune.

"Our source could have easily missed something yours didn't," said Weiss. "We wanted to be safe."

"Yeah!" said Ruby.

Sun glanced at Neptune, then shrugged. "Fair point."

There was a brief lull, broken when Weiss asked, "So what's the bad news?"

The two men exchanged a look. Neptune shifted guiltily as Sun scratched the back of his head. Both seemed reluctant to say anything.

"Well?" Ruby said impatiently.

"We're out," Neptune confessed without meeting either of their eyes.

" _What?_ " said Ruby.

"I'm sorry. We're out," Neptune repeated.

"But we're just getting started!"

"Roman Torchwick is _ruthless_ ," said Sun. "There are at least a dozen murders that can be traced back to his organization, and it hasn't even existed for that long."

Despite how Ruby had initially made it seem, Torchwick was not just a serial bank robber. According to Weiss's internet sleuthing, he ran a small mafia. They operated in racketeering, arms trafficking, drug dealing, contract killing, and more. They were also very good at covering their tracks, as the justice system had failed to prove that any of the few alleged members that had been arrested were associated with him; Bole Maze was the only one of them that had been killed. They'd proven themselves several steps above an ordinary street gang.

"You _need_ to tell your sister," Neptune said to Ruby.

"Hold on," said Weiss. "We don't even know for sure that Maze's death is linked to Torchwick or if Torchwick had any involvement with the death of Ruby's mother. He wasn't even active in Vale when it happened."

"But both of those things are possible, which is way too risky," said Sun. "Roman Torchwick has been quite open about his feats and never shied away from taking credit. If we assume that Maze _was_ one of Torchwick's goons, it probably also means Torchwick's the one who killed him and covered up his past. That's never happened before. Snooping around the _one_ guy he doesn't want traced back to him is the most sure-fire way to put yourself in his line of sight."

"Why does this change anything?" said Ruby. "We already knew we were tracking a dangerous killer. Now that we know the name of a dangerous killer that _might_ be involved, you don't want to help anymore?"

"You're right," said Sun. "This doesn't change anything. We shouldn't have encouraged you from the start, and we're not going to encourage you now. This needs to be a police matter, and Yang has to know."

"No! If word about this spreads, then—"

"Nothing is worth your _life_ , Ruby!" Sun interrupted. "You're afraid to tell Yang because you _know_ she'll say the same exact thing. You're getting in way over your head. One minor slip-up is all it'll take for them to know what you're up to, and then they'll _kill_ you. Is that what your mom would want?"

Ruby shot to her feet. "Don't talk about my mom like you knew her!"

"I know that no mother would want their daughter to waste her life in vain. You need to _grow up_."

Ruby opened her mouth, but couldn't seem to think of what else to say. Instead, she balled her fists and marched out the door. Weiss stood, her instincts telling her to go after her, but she didn't move. An air of awkwardness hung over the three of them.

"That was pretty harsh, dude," said Neptune.

Sun had the decency to look guilty. "Yeah, well . . . It was the truth. And it needed to be said."

After a few seconds' silence, both men looked at Weiss, likely wondering why she was still there. She bit her lip. On the one hand, she agreed with every single thing Sun had said. On the other . . .

" _Are_ you going to tell Ruby's sister?" she asked.

"Of course not," said Sun. "It's gotta come from her."

"And if _she_ doesn't?"

Sun sighed. "Then, that's her choice."

"And what are you going to do?" Neptune asked Weiss. "You're not gonna keep enabling this, are you?"

"I said I'd help her. _I_ , at the very least, am not one to renege on a promise." She put a sharpness in her words.

"Come on," said Sun. "Ruby I understand. But you? You seemed smart to me."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'm smart enough to comprehend that she's made up her mind, and she's continuing with or without us. Someone actually concerned for her safety needs to be there to keep her recklessness in check."

"You know the further her investigation progresses, the more dangerous it's going to get," said Neptune. "It fizzling out could be the best-case scenario, and that's not going to happen unless she's on her own."

Weiss met his eyes. "I'm busy this weekend," she said coldly, then turned and left.

Perhaps they had a point. Maybe Weiss just needed to admit to herself that this was what she was waiting for—a point where the risk became too high, and she'd have to find a way to talk Ruby into giving up. A point where she had to realize she was only here to make sure her semblance's evolution remained secret for as long as possible, and that being forced to report it to the CAB was unavoidable. But, regardless of whether that had been true at the start, it wasn't true now. She was here for Ruby, and wasn't going to turn her back on her now.

Weiss found the silver-eyed girl outside the building, leaning against it with her arms crossed. "What are you doing?" Weiss asked her.

Ruby pushed herself off the wall and looked at her. "Waiting for you. Could I have a ride?"

"Don't you ever get tired of having to rely on other people?"

"No. Why would I? That's what friends are for." She smiled, but it was weaker than usual.

Weiss stared at her, then jerked her head in the direction of her car. "Fine. Let's go."

A few moments after they set off together, Ruby said, "So . . . Did Neptune ask you out?"

Weiss was taken aback. "How did you know?"

"Figured it was inevitable. He's never been too slow to ask out pretty girls."

"Oh." She felt reassured in her decision. "Well, I said no."

"Really?" Ruby sounded surprised.

"Yes. Why?"

"You seemed kind of smitten."

"I did not!"

Ruby just chuckled as Weiss's cheeks grew warm.

* * *

Right now, tracing Bole Maze back to the woman who fired the gun was still their priority, but the available information on him was minimal. The most significant thing they'd learned was that he had some form of association with Roman Torchwick, but how helpful that was to know remained to be seen. Summer Rose had been murdered more than a year before Torchwick started making a name for himself in Vale, which made it doubtful that he had a hand in it. But it was another lead, so they'd follow it and hope for the best.

Ruby had dedicated the other side of her corkboard to displaying information on Torchwick. It was filling up a lot faster than the original side, which had only one new addition to it—Roman Torchwick's mugshot, linked with yarn to Maze's picture. The difference between the availability of information on the two was as clear as night and day.

Torchwick had grown up in Vacuo and dropped out of high school at sixteen. Afterward, he'd gone to juvie several times for shoplifting and underage smoking. His early adult life was rather hazy, though, as he'd managed to stay out of trouble for years. Then in 2006, he almost got away with robbing a jewelry store, but was arrested trying to fence the goods because one of his men betrayed him. He spent half a decade in prison, then went silent for a while. There was some word about him here and there, but nothing definitive—the mark of a good thief.

Someone robbed Vacuo's largest bank in 2015, and no suspects had ever been named. After that, Torchwick disappeared off the map. There was recent speculation that he had been behind it and had yet to develop his modus operandi, but it couldn't be proven. Now, five years later, he's shown up in Vale and begun a crime spree, his infamy rapidly growing.

There were a fair amount of gaps, but it was a gold mine of information compared to Bole Maze. And there was almost certainly a lot more to be dug up with more thorough research. The only issue was that none of what they'd found brought them any closer to the killer.

For a little over a week, the two women had been separately digging up what they could, calling each other frequently and meeting up a few times, but had had little luck. It was getting to the point where Weiss was wondering when they'd have to declare a dead-end when she got an intriguing call from Ruby.

"Are you busy tomorrow?" came Ruby's voice. "Around two?"

"Two?" Weiss quickly ran over her plans for the following day. "No, why?"

"One of my classes got cancelled, and there's this club I want us to check out."

Weiss took a moment to reply. "A club? On a Monday? Wait, did you mean two _AM_?"

"No, PM. Can you make it?"

"First of all, are they even going to be open? Secondly, would you care to explain _why_?"

"Yeah, they've got a day bar. And I'll explain tomorrow. It's important, trust me."

Weiss contemplated. "Fine. Where is it?"

"I'll text you the address. And make sure to be low-key."

"What do you mean by, 'low-key'?"

"Wear something you usually wouldn't, put on some sunglasses, get some makeup hiding that scar. Oh, and let your hair down for once. The ponytail's cute and all, but you always wear it. Bit of a giveaway."

"Givea—" Weiss was suddenly suspicious. "Ruby, what are you planning?"

"Don't worry about it. I said trust me. Okay, see you tomorrow, bye." She hung up without giving Weiss a chance to argue.

As it turned out, the club was only a couple of blocks away from where Weiss lived, so Ruby agreed to meet her there.

Weiss arrived on foot right on the agreed-upon time to find Ruby already waiting outside. The girl wore her usual zip-up jacket, but she'd pulled the zipper up and had the hood on, covering her hair. Her silver eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

Ruby took a second to say anything. "Oh, Weiss! I actually didn't recognize you."

As she'd been instructed, Weiss had let her dyed hair curtain down her back and hidden her scar as best she could. She also had a pair of sunglasses on and wore a red dress that went just past her knees. It was a gift she'd had for a while, but she never wore it as the color didn't suit her—and she didn't get many opportunities to dress up these days.

"So, what exactly are we doing here?" Weiss asked. "And why wouldn't you explain before?"

"I just wanted to be safe," said Ruby, "on the off chance someone was listening in."

"Who would be bugging your scroll?"

"I don't know, but Yang let slip something that she probably shouldn't have, and I don't want her getting in trouble. The guy who owns this place—" she nudged her head toward the club "—knows Torchwick."

" _What?_ " Weiss was in disbelief. "And you just want to prance right in and interrogate him? Are you insane?"

"No, he's a police informant! Look—I've been discreetly bringing Torchwick up around Yang here and there, to see if she knows anything, you know? But another precinct is working that case, so she's not been much of a help. Then yesterday, she mentioned that Junior, an informant she talks to every now and again, knows him. And that's probably supposed to be confidential, so don't tell anyone she told me."

"Do you even know anything about this man?"

"Not really," Ruby admitted. "I think he got arrested once and took a deal to stay out of jail. Now he gets to keep running his business but has to tell the cops anything he learns."

"What was he arrested _for_? There's no guarantee that he's truly reformed."

"I don't know, but it can't be too bad if they let him go, right?"

Weiss brought her palm to her forehead. "Ruby, I defended you against Neptune and Sun, but if you're going to be this dense then I might start to regret that decision. You want to talk to a literal criminal about our clandestine investigation. This is the furthest thing from avoiding risks!"

"I know what I'm doing," Ruby said determinedly. "I won't be obvious. And no one's going to be able to know who we are, anyway."

Weiss stared at her. "This is a _bar_ , Ruby."

"So?"

"They are literally going to ask us to show them our IDs."

Ruby opened her mouth to argue, couldn't come up with a rebuttal, then closed it. "Oh. I didn't realize that."

" _You think?_ "

"Well, we just won't order anything, then. I don't turn twenty-one until October, anyway."

Weiss had no words.

"Just follow my lead, okay?"

Weiss's eyes widened. "No, Ruby, wait!"

She was already through the door. Left with little choice, Weiss followed after her.


	8. V1C8: Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my beta readers on FF.net: 0neWhoWanders, Bardothren, and I Write Big. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.

Nightclubs weren't really Weiss's scene. Her idea of a party had always been a white tie soirée—typically at the family manor—where guests were expected to behave appropriately and mind each other's personal space. Delicacies and drinks were brought around by servers, the alcohol of choice being champagne or wine. A pianist was expected to play at all times, often backed up by a harpist or maybe a full string quartet. The idea of being crammed on a dance floor—within inches of a dozen other people attempting to show off as much skin as possible while deafening music of questionable taste filled the room—was repugnant to her. She couldn't quite fathom how anybody could find an appeal in these places.

Lucky for her, Junior's club was empty—that wasn't surprising for the early afternoon on a weekday. The lights were on, music was playing on low volume, and the only person in the room was a man kneeling behind the bar. When he heard the two women approach, he stopped whatever he was doing and stood, watching them. He was a very tall man, stocky with a neatly-trimmed beard that connected with his short hair. Everything about his appearance was so generic that Weiss would probably forget his face by the end of the day.

"What can I get you?" he asked as they each took a stool across from him. He seemed slightly suspicious. Apparently, he didn't usually get patrons around this hour.

"Do you have milk?" Ruby said, acting nonchalant.

The man stared at her. "No."

"Oh," she said dejectedly.

"Two club sodas, lime in mine," Weiss said before Ruby could make any other dubious requests, growing even more nervous.

He moved along the bar and looked at Ruby. "Lime for you too?"

"Uh, sure?" Ruby replied.

He returned to them and placed two bottles on the counter, popping the caps off for them as he said, "Four hundred."

Weiss handed him five hundred lien in cash and then took a sip of her drink. Ruby grabbed hers tentatively, staring at the bottle as if it might bite her. After a few seconds, Weiss began to suspect that the girl didn't know what a club soda was.

"It's non-alcoholic," Weiss muttered.

"Oh!" said Ruby. "I mean, I knew that." She brought the bottle to her lips and swallowed a generous amount, instantly making a face. Weiss rolled her eyes.

"First time at a bar? Chose an odd time for that," the man commented.

"Is it?" said Ruby, doing an excellent job at feigning ignorance.

Weiss changed the topic. "So, do you own this place?"

"I do," said the barkeep.

"That makes you Junior then," said Ruby.

He placed his palms on the counter. He only seemed to become more skeptical of them as time went on. "That's right."

"You must have seen a lot of interesting people come through here," said Ruby.

"Like who?"

Weiss resisted the instinct to correct his grammar.

"I don't know. I was just . . . trying to make conversation." Ruby took another drink, cringing as she did so. "So . . . those bank robberies are pretty crazy, huh?"

Weiss almost couldn't help palming her own forehead. Ruby's subtlety was practically nonexistent.

A glass shattered against the floor after Junior's hand slipped, knocking it off the counter. He made no reaction to it, instead continuing to stare at the two. "Let's cut the bullshit."

"What do you mean?" Ruby said innocently.

Weiss chewed her lip, wanting nothing more than to stand and walk out the door then and there.

"If you want information, it's gonna cost you," said Junior.

Ruby hesitated. "How much?"

Two opulently dressed girls entered from a backroom and sat down on the two stools farthest from them. One wore white and blue, the other red and black. They looked like twins, young enough to still be in high school. They minded their own business, Junior showing no signs of having noticed them.

"Depends on what you want to know," he said.

"Bole Maze," Weiss said hurriedly, worried Ruby might be stupid enough to bring up Torchwick's name first. "What do you have on a man named Bole Maze?"

His gaze switched over to her. "Never heard of him."

"What about a woman?" said Ruby.

"You're going to need to be more specific than that," he said.

"She's tall, has light hair that didn't look natural," Ruby described.

He visibly tensed, and Weiss knew he knew who she was talking about. For several seconds he said nothing, Weiss's nails digging deeper into the bar. Then the man smiled and said, "I might know of her."

"Who is she?" Ruby said desperately.

Junior straightened his back and fished a pair of red-tinted sunglasses out of his pocket, putting them on. "Just wait here a second. I'll go grab what you're looking for." He turned and disappeared through a staff-only door.

"Ruby, we need to go," Weiss said urgently.

"What?" said Ruby, staring at her incredulously. "But he _knows_. We're so close!"

"Something's off. I don't feel good about this. He—"

Weiss cut herself off, distracted by the two girls from before. They'd stood and were now walking over. They each sat on either side of them, staring straight ahead and saying nothing.

"Hello," Weiss said nervously.

"This place is so _boring_ in the day," said the one in white, her voice a dull drone.

"I wouldn't know," said Ruby, finally starting to show some signs of trepidation.

"Yeah," Weiss agreed. "In fact, we were just leaving."

"No, you're going to stay," said the girl in red to Weiss's left, her tone as bored-sounding as her sister's. She gently traced a circle against Weiss's arm, sending a static shock across her skin.

"Don't touch me!" Weiss exclaimed, whipping her arm back and shooting to her feet. Ruby stood with her, and together they backed away from the twins.

"Why would you leave when the excitement's just getting started?" said the one in white. She and her sister also got off their stools and positioned themselves between the two women and the door.

"I think there's been a misunderstanding," said Weiss, burying her fear and acting as confidently as she could. "Just step aside and we'll be on our way."

The twins didn't respond. Instead, creepily, they both raised an eyebrow at the same time.

"My sister's a cop," Ruby tried desperately. "If I don't come home tonight . . ."

Her voice trailed off, as arcs of electricity began to dance around the twins' arms. Paragons.

Junior re-entered the room from the same door he left through, but he wasn't alone. Half a dozen men—all identically dressed in dark suits and fedoras with ties and sunglasses that matched their boss's—poured in after him, each holding a gun.

Weiss barely felt Ruby's hand suddenly clasp onto her wrist. Her courage had failed her. She was frozen again with her back against a building, the tip of a blade pressed against her forehead. Only Ruby's fingers kept her rooted to reality, and all Weiss could think was that a bullet would be a lot quicker and more painless than a knife.

"If you don't do anything stupid," said Junior, "then neither will we. You two are going to come with us. Someone's going to want to talk—"

Weiss's ears popped as she felt a lurch in her stomach, and instantly—Weiss couldn't even begin to wonder how it had happened—both she and Ruby were losing their balance across the room by the exit.

"What? Where'd they go?" Junior shouted.

Everyone looked around in confusion for a few seconds. Just when one of the henchmen spotted the two women, who hadn't moved, something came crashing down from the rafters—a person in a high-tech suit of armor.

"It's her!" someone shouted.

"No, you idiot!" said Junior. "It's an impostor! Shoot!"

The vigilante raised their shield and sprinted across the club, drawing the fire as far away from Weiss and Ruby as possible. Most of the bullets either missed or bounced off the shield—others struck the armor to little effect. The gunshots sounded suppressed, though were still loud.

"Run!" the Protector shouted with their distorted voice.

Ruby, who'd been staring wide-eyed at her own palms, raised her head enough to watch the action. Weiss shook herself out of her shock and grabbed the girl by the shoulders.

"Let's go!" she hissed. No one was paying attention to them.

Ruby didn't seem to want to—the men had stopped firing and now the paragon twins were running to enter the fray, their arms crackling with energy—but she nodded anyway. They scrambled to their feet and burst through the door out and into the daylight.

* * *

Weiss's heart rate didn't start to slow down until they'd rounded a corner and stopped to catch their breaths, Junior's club no longer in sight. She wanted to further distance herself from it, but her feet could barely take the running she'd already done in her heels. So, disguised by the other pedestrians, they took a moment to collect themselves.

So much had just happened at once. Weiss didn't even get the chance to start processing it all before a new emergency demanded her attention.

"Weiss," Ruby said faintly. She didn't seem that worn out by the running, but something was still off about her. She swayed on the spot and had to grab onto Weiss's arm to steady herself.

"Ruby?" Weiss said, alarmed.

"I feel funny. It's . . . I don't . . ." She had a distant look in her eyes. She clenched them shut several times as if she'd stared into a bright light and was trying to blink the remnants out of her vision. Then her eyes returned to focus, and she seemed to regain herself. "I don't know what that was."

Weiss had a lot of things she wanted to say to—or yell at—Ruby, but her concern for the girl forced her to swallow them all. "Come on," she said. "We're going to my apartment. You need to sit down."

"I feel fine now."

"Let's _go_ ," Weiss said sternly.

They started walking. It was a warm day with few clouds. The people they passed all looked content and paid them no mind. What had happened—what was probably still happening—in that club may as well be in an alternate dimension, for all the outside world cared. Weiss and Ruby had gone from being almost kidnapped, or worse, to what felt like a normal day.

With a chance to think, Weiss tried to recount everything that had just occurred. But her adrenaline was still pumping so badly her memory was jumbled. Some of what she recalled was too crazy to be accurate, right?

It didn't matter; she'd sort through it later. She knew one thing for sure—something was wrong with Ruby.

They reached Weiss's apartment building in just a couple of minutes. She had many complaints about it, but was grateful that it at least had an elevator; she loathed the thought of having to climb several flights of stairs multiple times a day. It was especially useful now, as Ruby had stumbled a couple times on the way there. She insisted it was nothing, but Weiss knew better.

Weiss's apartment was a simple studio. It had a bathroom, bedroom, and kitchen/living room. The manor she'd grown up in had closets larger than the entire thing, but it was the best she could afford.

"You live in a bad neighborhood," Ruby commented while Weiss was unlocking the door.

"Shut up and sit down," Weiss ordered as she led the way into her apartment. Ruby obeyed and took a seat on the couch while Weiss filled a glass with water. She dropped a few ice cubes inside then presented it to Ruby. "Drink."

"I told you, I'm _fine_." Ruby accepted the glass and took a generous gulp regardless.

"You are anything _but_ fine. What did you _do_ back there?"

Ruby set the cup down—half a foot away from a perfectly good coaster, Weiss observed—and looked down at her hands. "I'm not sure. I wasn't thinking. I just knew we had to get out of there, and then it just _happened_. I don't know how."

She looked up and met Weiss's eyes. Weiss could tell she was being sincere.

Then Ruby's gaze shifted to the right, and she screwed up her face in concentration. Weiss tried to see what she was looking at but only saw wall. She looked back to Ruby, about to say something, then the girl vanished with a faint _whoosh_ sound, immediately reappearing on Weiss's left.

"I _knew_ it!" Ruby said, having caught the wall for support. "I knew my insomnia couldn't be my semblance! I told you!"

Weiss could only gape at her.

Ruby focused again for a few seconds, then— _whoosh_. She teleported once more, falling onto the couch on her reappearance. She grinned and pointed at herself with both hands. " _This_ is my semblance! I can Blink!"

"Wha— _Blink_?" said Weiss.

"Yeah! Like from . . ." Ruby yawned, and her eyes glazed over for a second. "You know . . . a show."

"Ruby?" said Weiss.

The girl's eyelids slid shut, and she slumped over.

"Ruby!" Weiss rushed over to her side, panicking. She dropped to her knees and reached for Ruby's shoulders, then hesitated, not sure what to do. She saw her chest continue to move, which indicated that she was still breathing.

Ruby rolled over onto her back, then let out an unmistakable snore. She was asleep.


	9. V1C9: Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my beta readers on FF.net: 0neWhoWanders, Bardothren, and I Write Big. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.

Ruby's unexpected slumber forced Weiss to call off the appointment she had scheduled for that afternoon. Weiss needed to keep an eye on the girl, since it was the first time she'd ever been unconscious. Ruby could react to this new experience in any number of ways. Best-case scenario, she would be a bit confused; worst-case scenario, she'd suffer a severe panic attack. Whatever happened, Weiss would be there to help her through the distress.

The time passed slowly, Weiss checking on Ruby every few minutes. She tried to be productive in the meantime, but the day's events made it impossible. She couldn't stop thinking about it all—Junior, the twins, Ruby's semblance. She could still hear the gunshots as clear as day, and the sound they made bouncing off their hero's shield.

The Protector of Vale had saved her— _again_. What were the odds? She'd been keeping her ear to the ground about the vigilante for weeks, but their one and only appearance had been the incident that gave her her scar. And now they showed up at the exact time Weiss needed help again. It couldn't be a coincidence. Who were they?

Though her mind dwelled on little else, she couldn't come up with any plausible theories. Eventually, her thoughts wandered elsewhere, to the things they had to discuss as soon as Ruby awoke.

She hated how peaceful the girl looked. The way she curled up under the blanket Weiss had draped over her, how her eyes fluttered beneath her eyelids, the occasional tiny snores—it all made her innocence more pronounced than ever. Weiss found herself struggling to stay angry with her, though she had every right to be.

Mostly, though, all she could do was worry for her. Weiss had an irrational paranoia that Ruby would never wake up. But nothing bad happened. Ruby appeared comfortable, her breathing remained steady, and she even looked to have entered a REM stage. She seemed perfectly healthy and might've slept the rest of the day. But, two hours after she'd slumped over, she began to writhe. Then she abruptly jolted awake, shouting and terrified.

"Mom! Mom! _Mom!_ "

Weiss, who'd been on her scroll in the kitchen, hurried over to her. "Ruby, calm down!"

Ruby's frenzied eyes snapped onto her, bemused. "Weiss? But . . . I . . ."

"It was just a dream," Weiss told her.

"No, I _saw_ her. I saw her—" The girl choked on her words, and her silver eyes became watery.

"It was just a dream, Ruby," Weiss repeated soothingly.

"I-it was so real." The tears were streaming down her face now. "It was _her_. I w-watched her . . ."

Ruby began to sob, so Weiss did what she thought was appropriate—she hugged her. Ruby buried her face in her shoulder and wept freely, while Weiss awkwardly patted her back. And for a while, they stayed like that, one friend comforting another.

Weiss thought she understood now—the reason why Ruby so adamantly refused to let anyone else take this investigation away from her. Two years have passed since Summer Rose's death, but her daughter still hadn't accepted it. Finding the killer was all Ruby had. She believed that bringing them to justice would make things better—cause the pain to end and lessen the loss. It was possible, even, that she subconsciously thought that if she took down the murderer, it'd bring her mother back.

It wouldn't. And that was a dangerous mentality that needed to be brought under control before she descended into a downward spiral. The longer she gave herself that false hope, the tighter she'd hold onto it, and the more devastating the inevitable disappointment would be. For her own sake, she needed to learn how to let go and accept what had happened. Ideally, this dream was the first step toward that goal.

"I saw her die, Weiss," Ruby whispered, once her crying had begun to slow down.

"I know," Weiss said empathetically.

Ruby pulled away and began to wipe her face with her hands. Weiss stood and retrieved two tissues—one she gave to Ruby, and the other she used to dry her own shoulder.

"Are dreams always that vivid?" Ruby eventually asked, her face still blotchy.

"More often than not," Weiss said, standing a reasonable distance away from her now with a warm feeling in her face. The level of intimacy they'd just shared she'd only ever experienced with her sister, and only on one occasion. "Most of the time, you forget them before you even brush your teeth."

Ruby hugged her knees to her chest, and it took her some time to speak again. "I thought sleep would be an _escape_ from this."

The words struck Weiss like a punch to the gut. "Wait, _that's_ why you wanted a 'cure' so desperately?"

The girl nodded.

"Ruby, that isn't healthy. You're searching for a way to avoid your grief when you need to be facing it head-on."

"I can't. I just can't. Every time I try and move on, I have to imagine a life without her in it—to accept th-that I won't see her again the next time I visit Dad, or he visits us. And I just _can't_ do that or it'll b-break me." She seemed on the verge of tears again, but this time was holding them back.

Weiss pulled a chair over from the kitchen and sat facing her. "Sometimes, you have to allow things to break, or they'll never be fixed."

"You don't know that."

"I _do_ know that. I'm the only qualified person in your life to tell you that."

Ruby said nothing.

Weiss crossed her legs. "Have you never seen a therapist about this?"

"I don't _need_ a therapist." She paused, then suddenly stood and gave Weiss an accusatory glare. "And I don't need _you_ to therapize me. What I need is to know why I can sleep all of a sudden, and why I now have a superpower." She focused on a spot across the room.

"Wait, Ruby, don't—" Weiss started.

The girl teleported with a faint _whoosh_.

"It'd be wise to exercise a bit of restraint with your new ability," said Weiss.

"Why?" Ruby Blinked—as she called it—again.

"Ruby, _stop_. You're going to over—"

 _Whoosh_.

"—exert yourself."

Ruby was getting better at her landings; she didn't even need to grab onto anything on that last one. But she lost her balance when she tried walking back to the lounge area, now that she was finally done faffing about, and fell to her knees. Weiss didn't even bother getting up.

"I told you so," she said.

"Okay, okay," Ruby said sluggishly. "I see your point." She managed to get up and make it back to the couch, then promptly fell back asleep.

* * *

After another couple of hours had passed, Weiss began to suspect that Ruby might be asleep for a while. So she carefully extracted the girl's scroll from her pocket and closed herself in her bedroom with it. She scrolled to the bottom of Ruby's contacts, selected the one she was looking for, and didn't have to wait that long for an answer.

"What's up, sis?" It was Yang's voice.

"This is Weiss, actually." Weiss hesitated, then remembered the detective already knew her secret. "Weiss Schnee."

"Where's Ruby?" Yang sounded concerned.

"She's at my place, and currently in the shower." Weiss didn't like the idea of lying to Ruby's sister, but this news wasn't hers to share. The truth would also likely worry Yang. So Ruby would just have to explain everything when she returned to her own apartment. "She wanted me to inform you that she might not be coming home tonight."

There was a pause. "Ohhh. Are you two . . . ya know?"

Weiss furrowed her brow. There was an implication in her tone that she didn't understand. "Um . . . I _don't_ know."

"Well, I would say 'sleeping together' but that phrasing doesn't really work with my sister, now does it?"

" _W-what?_ " Weiss sputtered. "No! Why would you—? I'm not even . . . Wait, is _she_?"

Yang's laughter came muffled from the other end, like she'd temporarily moved the scroll away from her face. "Figured you knew. You two have been spending a lot of time together."

"We're _friends_. And I'm straight."

"Alright, alright. Just make sure _she_ knows that."

"She does."

"Good. So what _are_ you up to, then? Just having a little slumber party or something, minus the slumbering?"

"I . . . suppose that's accurate."

"Alright. Well, tell Ruby to text me tomorrow if she doesn't get home before I leave for work."

"I'll tell her."

"Thanks. See ya."

"Goodbye."

With the call ended, Weiss returned to the living room and placed Ruby's scroll on the coffee table. She stared at Ruby's still sleeping face for a brief moment, then quickly looked away, her cheeks hot. Suddenly the girl's comments about Weiss's ponytail being "cute" and Neptune being quick to ask out "pretty girls" had entirely new connotations.

Weiss pushed the subject out of her mind. Those compliments were completely innocuous. Ruby was far from the first woman to call her pretty, and likely wouldn't be the last.

She sat down at her dining table, facing away from her friend, and pulled out her own scroll. She typed "Junior's" into a search engine for about the dozenth time, and finally got results. She'd heard the police sirens pass by not long after Ruby first fell asleep and figured it was only a matter of time before the media caught wind of what happened.

She tapped on an article published twenty minutes ago titled, _Vigilante Attacks Nightclub in Broad Daylight_ , then began to read. She got angrier and angrier with every sentence. Not only was Junior not facing any charges, he was being painted as a _victim_. The official story was that Junior had been preparing his establishment for busy hours with two part-time workers, who chose to remain anonymous, when a vigilante snuck in through the vent system and attacked them. The workers, who happened to be paragons, attempted to use their semblances in "self-defense" but were struck by strange devices that seemed to somehow inhibit their powers. Junior fired his own personal firearm when that failed, but didn't damage anything other than his own walls. The Protector of Vale impersonator fled the scene before authorities arrived, but witnesses spotted them sprinting across the rooftops away from the club. Motives are unknown, but speculation suggests that the vigilante could've been after the workers, driven by some sort of anti-paragon agenda.

Although the blatant lying was infuriating, it did have one benefit—Weiss and Ruby had been omitted entirely. No one who wasn't present knew there'd been any visiting patrons at the time of the incident, which meant they were in the clear. Unfortunately, the gunmen had also been left out of the article; presumably, they'd run or hidden before Junior called the cops.

The question was, why _did_ Junior call the cops? It could only have been him or one of his goons. Weiss hadn't done it, and Ruby hadn't been awake to do it. If he'd wanted to avoid suspicion, the smart thing to do would have been to cover up the ordeal entirely. The gunfire wouldn't have reached the streets through the soundproof walls the club most likely had. Had he just wanted a chance to defame the new Protector?

It was just more to theorize about. But soon, it likely wouldn't matter, if the impending conversation with Ruby went as poorly as Weiss was anticipating.

* * *

Eventually, Weiss could neglect her own rest no longer. So, after checking on Ruby one last time—still fast asleep—she changed into her nightgown and got into bed, leaving her bedroom door open to be safe. It took her a while to drift off, unable to stop ruminating over the day's events, but she managed in the end.

Weiss woke to the sound of her alarm; she hadn't dreamt much that night. She got up, not feeling well-rested at all, and made her way to the living room. Ruby was awake and watching TV on low volume, a steaming mug in her hands. She'd tossed her hoodie over the arm of the couch and taken off her shoes, but kept her socks on. Her sunglasses were half folded on the coffee table.

"How long have you been up?" Weiss asked.

Ruby started. "Oh! Morning, Weiss. A few hours." She glanced down at the drink she'd nearly spilled on herself. "Sorry, I helped myself to some coffee. I just really had a craving for it. I can pay you back for it, if you're mad."

"Is there enough for me?"

"Yeah."

"Then I don't care. How'd you sleep?"

"Better, but it's still really weird and confusing."

"Obviously. And your dreams?"

Ruby wouldn't meet her eyes when she said, "None."

Weiss didn't buy it, but she had to use the bathroom too urgently to press it further. "I'm going to take a shower, then we'll talk."

"Okay. Your radiator's broken, by the way. I'm pretty sure I could fix it, but I couldn't find any tools."

"You could?" Weiss was pleasantly surprised, but then the rest of what Ruby had said sunk in, and her eyes dangerously narrowed. "Wait, what do you mean by 'couldn't find'?"

Ruby's eyes widened. "No, I wasn't invading your privacy, or anything! I just looked around and checked the obvious places, like under the sinks. I wasn't trying to snoop."

" _Ask_ , next time."

"Sorry."

"And I don't have any tools."

"Oh. Well, if you want, I could come back sometime with mine and take a look at the radiator for you. I'm pretty handy."

"That'd . . . be great. Thank you," Weiss said with little conviction. She turned toward the bathroom, then paused. "Oh, I called your sister last night, so she wouldn't worry. She said—"

"I know. I did too, after I woke up. Thanks for that."

"You're welcome."

Twenty minutes later, Weiss had freshened up and gotten dressed, having taken a shorter shower than she usually would have. She prepared herself a cup of coffee then sat down beside Ruby.

"Wait, you have cream?" Ruby exclaimed after taking one glance at Weiss's mug. "I thought you liked it black!"

"Not all the time," said Weiss. "It varies."

Ruby stared down at her own nearly-empty cup. "Well, I wish I'd known that. Here I am drinking coffee with nothing but sugar in it like an idiot."

Weiss just rolled her eyes and took a cautious sip. She watched the TV—it was playing some cartoon she'd never seen before—until Ruby picked up the remote and shut it off.

"So . . ." the girl said. " _Do_ you know why I can sleep now?"

Weiss lowered her mug to her lap, cupping it with both hands, and took a moment to consider her reply. "I've actually put a lot of thought to it, and I have a hypothesis."

"And?" Ruby said eagerly.

"I think it's your price."

Ruby's brow furrowed. "My . . . price?"

"The price of your semblance," Weiss explained. "That's what my mother used to call it. Semblances seldom come freely; they require something from you in order to use them. Some feed on emotion, or cause pain or hunger—it differs. Mine physically exhausts me, and it—"

"Wait, it _physically_ exhausts you?" Ruby cut in. "Wouldn't it make more sense for it to, I don't know, give you a headache or something?"

"Semblances rarely make sense, Ruby. Now don't interrupt."

"Sorry."

"As I was saying, mine physically exhausts me and can even leave me with a fever if I push it too far. I believe _your_ semblance tires you."

"Okay . . . but why would that keep me from being able to sleep before now?"

"Paragons' bodies work differently than most people's. They have to adapt to their semblance. It's possible that your body has to produce more energy than normally needed to make up for what your semblance drains. So unless you use it, you're producing energy faster than you're spending it, which effectively means that you'll only get tired if you teleport."

"So, all I have to do is Blink around my room at night and I'll be able to sleep like a normal person?" She sounded disheartened, like the thing she'd once longed for had lost its appeal.

"That's my educated guess."

Ruby said nothing. It was strange seeing her this somber; it was like Weiss was looking at an entirely different person than the light, enthusiastic girl she'd met a month ago. Weiss suddenly respected her more as a person. She could see that Ruby was more than a reckless, often annoying, bundle of joy and purity—she was human.

"Ruby," said Weiss, "what did you dream about last night?"

"Nothing," Ruby said without meeting her gaze.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm _not_." She stood. "How come I can only Blink a few times, and then I just pass out? That's so lame."

Weiss sighed. "You've never used your semblance before. It'll get easier over time. The first time I healed someone, I was severely fatigued for two days. Now I can do three in a short time and fully recover within twenty-four hours. Now, _what_ did you dream about?"

Ruby pretended not to hear the last part. "So, I just need to practice and it won't tire me as much?"

"Yes. _Stop_ prevaricating."

Ruby had a blank look. "What?"

"You're being purposefully evasive and avoiding the main issue here."

"I don't want to talk about it, alright?"

"Ruby, I'm telling you—as your friend and as a psychotherapist—that this kind of behavior is self-destructive. The longer you keep going like this—"

"But you're _not_ a real therapist, right? It's just a title for you to use your semblance. You haven't gone through any of the training, or whatever."

Weiss gritted her teeth. "I have a master's in psychology; I _know_ what I'm talking about."

"Well, I don't care—that's not the point. I said I _don't_ want to talk about it. It's been two years; I'm _fine_."

"You are _not_ —" Weiss started, but Ruby stubbornly spoke over her.

"There are more important matters at hand! Like what happened at Junior's."

Weiss narrowed her gaze and tightened her hold on her coffee. Just like that, Ruby was back to her usual, aggravating self. Weiss did not want to drop the subject, but knew further arguing would be pointless—Ruby would just sink deeper into her own incorrect view, as was the wont of man. Weiss had said all there was to say, and that was all she could do for now. Plus, she needed to conserve her energy for the next argument they were about to have.

"Fine," Weiss relented. "Let's discuss you ignoring my warnings and nearly getting us abducted."

Ruby's eyes shifted toward the floor, and there was some hesitation before she said, "I'm sorry."

Weiss was taken aback. "You're sorry?"

"Yeah. The guy has been working with the cops for ages! I never thought he'd do something like that."

"I _warned_ you—"

"I know, I know. I should've listened. But it worked out in the end, didn't it? It wasn't all bad."

"Not _all_ bad? The only reason we're here right now is sheer luck. And now we're on their radar."

"They'll never be able to ID us. We were disguised, remember?"

"But now Junior's going to tell whomever he's working for that two women—one with a memorable semblance—are prying around where they shouldn't. It's over, Ruby."

Ruby's eyes widened. "My semblance . . . I can't report this to CAB. Then all the bad guys have to do is break into their database like they did the County Clerk's and they'll know who I am."

Weiss paused; she hadn't thought of that. "First of all, it's 'the C-A-B', not 'cab'. Secondly . . . yes. You're going to have to be very careful about who knows. And don't even _think_ about keeping this from your sister."

"I wasn't going to! I saw the lies on the news. The police have no idea someone with my semblance was there."

Weiss stared at her. "And if they did, your answer would somehow be different?"

"Well, duh. I still can't have her knowing about—"

"You are unbelievable." Weiss set her mug down on a coaster.

"What?" Ruby said defensively. "It'd bring up way too many awkward questions. And the only one I'm worried about right now is, where do we go from here?"

" _What?_ " said Weiss, hoping she'd misheard.

"I said, where do we go from here? Junior knows the killer—"

Weiss abruptly stood. "Are you out of your mind?"

She wasn't surprised. This was perfectly in-line with everything she knew about the silver-eyed girl. But Weiss had allowed her the benefit of the doubt. She'd thought that, perhaps just this once, Ruby would be sensible instead of actively insane.

"Huh?" Ruby appeared genuinely confused, which was all the more infuriating.

"There _is_ nowhere to go from here," Weiss asserted. "It's _over_."

A look of betrayal passed over Ruby's eyes. "You're giving up on me, too?"

But Weiss would not be guilt-tripped. "I said, from the very beginning, the instant we run into any form of danger, we're going to the police."

"But we're so close! We've learned so much—"

"And look at what it nearly cost us! The entire point of doing this ourselves, quietly, was to avoid the chance of the killer knowing someone was on to them. Guess what? Now they know. And if they manage to track us down, they'll kill us, and everything we've discovered will die too."

"They can't possibly."

"You don't know that! It's time to give this up and let the people trained to do this take over."

"But what if telling the cops _is_ what draws attention to us?"

"Competent authorities are more than capable of protecting us."

"Not if these people have spies inside the VPD."

Weiss hesitated. "There's no evidence to suggest that."

"They'd be pretty bad spies if there was."

"And Yang would be a terrible detective if she didn't suspect anything. Don't you have any faith in your sister?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then what's the issue?" Weiss exclaimed.

Ruby said nothing. A long moment passed where all she could do was stubbornly stand her ground, failing to come up with a response. But they both knew the argument was over, so Ruby silently picked up her shoes, slung her hoodie over her shoulder, and marched toward the door.

"Ruby, wait," said Weiss.

The girl froze.

Weiss pointed at the coffee table. "You forgot your sunglasses."

Ruby huffed back over, retrieved them, then left, slamming the door on her way out.

Weiss sat back down; Ruby's flowery scent lingered around the couch. She placed her head in her hands, her breathing shaky from the shouting.

It was times like these that helped her realize why she was incapable of maintaining lasting friendships. Did normal people just concede in their quarrels, even when they were right, in order to preserve peace between friends? Perhaps the only reason she was still close with Winter was that they only saw each other on occasion—there were too few chances for explosive debates. Weiss had shared her entire childhood with her brother, and that hadn't done their relationship any favors. Maybe it was just best for everyone if she kept her distance.


	10. V1C10: Irony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my beta readers on FF.net: Bardothren, I Write Big, and 0neWhoWanders. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.
> 
> P.S. To avoid confusion, I've gone back to the previous two chapters and capitalized every instance of the word "Blink" when used to refer to Ruby's semblance. I'm telling you this so that if you notice something like "Ruby Blinked" in the future, you won't think it's an inconsistency.

Weiss hated irony. She'd finally found her answer; she'd discovered what it was that had been driving her to help Ruby investigate Summer Rose's murder. And all it took was the end of the whole endeavor, as well as their short-lived friendship. The answer was, in truth, underwhelming.

It was Ruby.

The initial mockery aside—or what Weiss now understood to have been playful teasing—the silver-eyed girl had been friendlier to her in two interactions and a handful of emails than most people had been in Weiss's entire life. It had left an unexpected impression on her that she'd been too focused on Ruby's annoying faults to notice. The simple truth of the matter was that Weiss decided to help Ruby because it was a chance to spend more time with her—it was a chance to have a friend.

And she didn't come to that realization until it no longer mattered. Irony—she hated it.

Though her childhood had been spent being taught how to act "proper", obey etiquette, and socialize with her peers, she'd never learned how to build meaningful relationships. Her conditioned behaviors were meant to serve ulterior motives. She needed to conduct herself as a noblewoman _should_ , to maintain a good image and earn respect—not for herself, but for the family and the man at the head of it. She had to know how to speak to people and make good first impressions in order to develop contacts and garner favors. That was in the name of networking—it didn't help her earn any actual friends.

Those habits were expected to follow her into school, too, but it hadn't mattered. Kids her age were intimidated by her last name or afraid of her because she had a semblance. Those who did try to get close to her wouldn't have done so if her family hadn't been wealthy and well-connected. Her few attempts at romance had failed for the same reasons.

So she'd been alone at school. After Winter left to join the military, Weiss had been alone at home. Nothing changed until high school, when she made her first honest friend, but Weiss eventually managed to drive her away, too. Then her father was arrested, the family became scattered, and she was lonelier than ever. The investigation with Ruby was a prime opportunity to not be alone for once, so she'd seized it. A part of her had even dared to believe it might last.

Obviously, she was wrong. Five days without any contact with her was what it took to learn the simple truth buried within her subconscious. It was strange—Weiss had spent half a decade studying the human mind, yet she still didn't understand her own.

Weiss sighed—more irony.

It was noon on a Sunday. Weiss sat at her dining table, enjoying a bowl of noodles while she wallowed in her own self-pity, pretending she was just fine on her own. Her scroll sat face-up near the napkins, an email from Neptune Vasilias on the screen. She'd received it a couple of days ago but hadn't responded to it. She assumed he'd managed to find one of her psychotherapy ads. By way of clearing the air between them, he'd attached a folder full of intel on Roman Torchwick. She'd skimmed it a couple of times, and it didn't seem to contain much that she didn't already know. She felt stupid for even opening it once, as Torchwick no longer had any relevance on her life, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her.

The message Neptune had sent was actually kind of sweet. Weiss was tempted to reply, but resisted the urge. She wasn't still mad at him; she hadn't really been mad at him in the first place. She just had a bad habit of becoming hostile toward people on the other side of arguments. At least she'd outgrown saying, "Don't you know who I am?" at at least one point during every altercation. Only in hindsight did she realize how obnoxious that had been.

But Weiss didn't want to get her hopes up again. She didn't want a repeat of what had happened with Ruby, where she starts getting close with someone only for it to inevitably end in disappointment. So she was keeping her distance from him.

The scroll started to ring, and a news article about another one of Torchwick's robberies was replaced with Ruby's name. Weiss stared at it for a brief spell, perplexed, before hurriedly dropping her fork and swallowing the bit of food she'd been chewing. She picked up the device and tapped the green button.

"Hey, Weiss. You busy?" Ruby's voice sounded perfectly casual, as if nothing had happened.

Weiss was too confused to articulate a response.

"Weiss?" said Ruby.

"Um, yeah," Weiss said warily. "I mean, no, I'm not busy."

"Awesome. Do you think you could give me a ride? I'm just a few minutes away from your place right now."

Weiss's reply was delayed. "Ruby, nothing's changed. I'm _done_ with the investigation."

"I got that, loud and clear. So what? We're still friends."

"W-we are?"

When Ruby spoke again, she sounded hurt. "Do you not want to be?"

"I thought that _you_ didn't. We had that huge argument."

"Of course I do! People fight, they make up. Big deal. If you stop being someone's friend over one disagreement, then you wouldn't have any friends at all."

Weiss could only stare at her noodles.

"So, are we good?" Ruby asked.

"Yes," Weiss answered, suddenly feeling more upbeat. "We're . . . _good_."

"Great! So, give me a ride? Pretty please?"

"Why don't you just . . . use your _new trick_?"

"Huh? Oh, my semblance. It doesn't really work that way. I've been toying around with it a little, and I think I can only teleport to where I can see."

"Oh. Otherwise, I might've been the one calling _you_ for transportation."

"Heh. Would've been convenient. So . . . ride?"

"Alright. Text me your location."

"Sweet! See you soon."

* * *

Weiss came to a stop outside a bakery to find Ruby waiting on the curb. The girl promptly spotted her and got in on the passenger side.

"Home, please," she said. A moment later, she remembered to fasten her seat belt.

Weiss hesitated. "Are you sure? Mightn't it be better to go to a police station instead?"

"No," Ruby said firmly.

"The longer you—"

"Can we just . . . _not_ do this right now? I just got fired."

Weiss frowned. "I didn't even know you _had_ a job."

"I worked here part-time, only on the weekends." She pointed toward the bakery. "I guess I've been distracted the past few weeks, and my 'performance has been lackluster', so they let me go."

"I'm sorry."

Ruby shrugged. "It's fine. Can we go?"

Weiss switched the transmission to drive and set off.

"Sorry for asking you," said Ruby. "Yang usually picks me up, but I normally don't get off until a lot later. She's working on some secret case right now."

"Well, asked just in time," said Weiss. "I'm selling my car tomorrow."

"Oh? Are things really that tight?"

"No. I can get by, but owning a car in this city just isn't worth the expense. Parking, insurance, gas—they're a major drain. So from now on, I'll be using taxis and the—" Weiss suppressed a shudder "— _subway_."

"Oh, come on. The subway's not that bad."

"But they're so dirty! And full of _people_." Weiss glanced at Ruby long enough to see she was rolling her eyes. " _What?_ "

"Nothing," Ruby said, chuckling. "You know, if you're having money problems—"

"Don't you dare offer to lend me money."

"Who said I was going to?"

"It sounded like where that was going."

"I was just going to say, I still never paid you for treating me, the first time we met."

"I didn't cure you."

"But I should still owe you for your time, right?"

"Forget it."

Ruby was silent for a moment. "Well, how about this? I buy you dinner tomorrow, and we can call it even."

Weiss glanced at her. "As friends, right?"

"Um, duh?" Ruby said like it was obvious.

Weiss had to consider it. This was nearly identical to how her parents first got together. Willow Schnee had refused to accept payment for curing Jacques Gelé's gambling addiction, as she'd been wealthy enough to lend her services free of charge. As a compromise, he offered to take her to dinner instead. Their wedding was held exactly one year later.

Weiss didn't like this parallel. She'd feel guilty comparing her worst enemy to her father, if they weren't one and the same. Ruby was the last person she wanted likened to him.

"Well?" Ruby pressed. "We have a deal?"

"You just lost your job," said Weiss. "I don't want to put you out."

"Psh." Ruby waved her hand dismissively. "I only worked so I could buy things I wanted for myself. Video games, comics—stuff like that. My dad pays the bills and Yang covers most of the groceries, so it's not like I really need the lien. Besides, I have savings."

Weiss contemplated a bit longer, then finally accepted. "Okay. But it had better be a _good_ restaurant."

They arrived a little under ten minutes later. The drive had persisted in a pleasant silence, Weiss having to tolerate Ruby's questionable music choice. When she came to a stop, though, Ruby didn't get out.

"Could you park and come up with me?" she asked.

"Why?" said Weiss.

"I want to show you something, and we'll have a chance to talk."

"Ruby, if you're going to show me what you added to your 'crime board', then I want nothing to do with it."

"It's not that. I promise."

Weiss scrutinized her but couldn't detect any lies, so she agreed. She parked the car and paid the meter, then accompanied Ruby into the building. The elevator carried them to their stop, and they entered into a predictably empty apartment. Ruby immediately led the way to her bedroom, not even stopping to take off her hoodie. Weiss lingered by the doorway for a few moments, taking a glance around—the place looked no different from the last time she was here—then followed after her. Inside the bedroom, she found Ruby on the ground with her head beneath a bed that hadn't been there before—it looked brand new and noticeably more comfortable than Weiss's.

"Got it!" Ruby declared after a second of rummaging. She emerged and stood with a small cardboard box in her hands. She placed it on the mattress and withdrew from it a dark object that she then presented to Weiss.

It was a mask. Made of a lightweight metal and painted black, it was big enough to cover the entire face. Thorny vines, colored red, were etched all over it in random patterns. Either tinted glass or plastic covered the eye holes, which took on a sleek, slanted shape. A small hook stuck out of the forehead, for some reason. Several tiny holes were drilled over where the mouth would be, but something was blocking the other side.

"What is this?" Weiss said uneasily.

"It's my mask," Ruby said, shaking it a little to urge Weiss to take it. "I've been working on it all week using my school's workshop. Look!"

Weiss gingerly grabbed it, like it might bite her, and turned it over in her hands. Some electronics covered the inside of the mouth area.

"It's made of titanium, with polycarbonate for the eyes," Ruby explained. "I'm still working on the voice modulator, and I haven't given it a strap yet. I'm thinking of doing a headband with a pair of magnets, so I can just pull it on and off—might not be the most secure though."

Weiss was becoming very concerned. "And . . . the hook?"

"Oh! That's for the cloak. I'm going to have a little loop underneath the hood that it can hook into so that the hood doesn't come flying off."

Ruby took out a piece of paper from the box and showed it to Weiss. On it were several well-drawn sketches for what was unmistakably a superhero suit. They all included the mask and a red hooded cloak, as well as sections of armor plates in varying sizes and quantities.

"This is your Halloween costume for next month, _right_?" Weiss said hopefully.

Ruby's brow furrowed. "No, of course not."

Weiss's heart sank. "Ruby, _please_ don't tell me you're planning what I think you're planning."

Ruby teleported half a foot to her right with a faint _whoosh_. "Weiss, I have a _superpower_."

"You're deranged." Weiss shook her head at the ceiling. "You are an absolute lunatic."

"No, I'm not," Ruby insisted. "Despite what you think, I'm not some defenseless little girl! Yang's been teaching me martial arts the past few weeks. I can—"

"A few _weeks_?" Weiss repeated. "A few weeks. And you think that qualifies you to run around fighting criminals who will almost definitely be armed? Is your _few weeks_ of close combat training supposed to protect you against bullets?"

"No, my semblance is—and the armor."

Weiss couldn't sit still anymore. She shoved the mask back into Ruby's hands and stormed out through the door, then began to pace around the living room. "If you're so determined to die, there are much faster and simpler methods."

"Look." Ruby had set the mask down and followed her out. "Obviously, I'm not going to start any time _soon_. But with the right gear, more practice with my semblance, and some proper training, I can do it. I can be like _her_."

"Pyrrha Nikos. You think that _you_ can live up to what _she_ did? Ruby, that woman fought through a mechanized army with nothing but a suit of armor and a sword and shield to destroy one of the most devastating weapons ever built from the inside, taking down Salem and herself with it. You think that _you_ can do _that_?"

"Not at first, but I could get to that point. Pyrrha was my age when she died. Maybe I can find whoever taught her. Or I could find the person who saved us from Junior and _they_ could teach me."

"So . . . what? You want to be their sidekick?"

"No! More like a . . . protégé."

Weiss sat down and rubbed her temple, and it took her a bit to speak again. "Ruby. Do you even understand how utterly _exhausting_ it is to be your friend? It seems like every time we talk, you're coming up with some new imprudent, harebrained idea that I have to fruitlessly attempt to convince you out of."

"Well I'm _sorry_ that I dream bigger than you and that I believe in myself."

"That's a funny way of saying you grossly overestimate your own capabilities."

"You know, I think I know what the real problem is. _You_ just don't have any faith in me."

"Oh? Really? Okay. I should just have some more _faith_ in you," Weiss said sarcastically. "Do I _need_ to bring up what happened at Junior's again?"

Ruby balled her fists. "That was _one_ mistake. I—"

She stopped short because the doorknob to the front door had begun to shake. Whoever was on the other side seemed to be having a hard time getting it open.

"I thought you said your sister was working a case," Weiss said in a low voice.

"She is," said Ruby, sounding confused.

The door finally burst open and two women came clumsily inside, one blonde and the other black-haired. They were locked in a passionate embrace, Ruby's sister being backed into the apartment by the other. They were lost in each other's lips, eyes closed, unaware that the room wasn't empty.

"Yang?" Ruby exclaimed, shocked. "Blake?"

The two lovers froze like deer caught in the headlights. Then they hastily pulled away from each other, cheeks blazing, and put a good two feet of distance between themselves.

"Ruby!" said Yang. "Wha- why aren't you at work?"

"Why were _you_ making out with Blang?" Ruby countered. "I mean Yake. I mean—y-you know what I mean!"

That short exchange was enough time for Weiss to get a good look at the black-haired woman. Her hair came down to her shoulders, and she had amber eyes that seemed to only have spotted Ruby. She was dressed casually—as was Yang—wearing a black vest with coattails, of which the top two buttons remained unfastened.

Weiss stood, staring aghast at her. " _Blake?_ "

All those times Ruby, Yang, or Sun had mentioned her, Blake Belladonna was the _last_ person Weiss thought they could have possibly been referring to.

"You _know_ her?" Ruby said.

Everyone was staring at Weiss now, the sisters in bemusement and Blake in horror. Then the latter vanished into thin air.

"Blake Belladonna you get back here this instant!" Weiss commanded.

 _Whoosh_. Ruby suddenly stood with her arms spread wide, blocking the exit. "Oh no you don't."

Blake reappeared not far from her, mid footstep, her mouth hanging open as she looked back and forth between Ruby and where she'd been standing a moment before. "Wha—? How did you . . .? Since when can you do _that_?"

"Since when have you been dating my sister?" Ruby parried.

"Since when have you lived in Vale?" Weiss directed at Blake.

"Okay, can we all just _calm down_ before another bombshell drops on us?" demanded Yang, who didn't seem surprised by Ruby's semblance. She marched over to the door and ushered Ruby and Blake away from it so she could close it. "Everyone sit down so we can address one thing at a time."

Weiss lowered herself back onto the couch and immediately crossed both her arms and legs, her foot shaking rapidly. Ruby sat beside her while Blake claimed the seat farthest away from Weiss, who hadn't stopped glaring at her—Blake seemed interested by Weiss's hair, but didn't comment. Yang casually hopped over the back of the couch and plopped herself down next to her apparent girlfriend.

"Okay," she said.

Weiss opened her mouth, but was interrupted before she got a chance to speak.

"Ah bup bup!" Yang held up her hand. "No. Me first. Well—" she grabbed Blake's hand "— _us_ first. I owe it to Ruby."

"Yeah, you do," Ruby said, staring at their intertwined fingers. "How long has _this_ been going on?"

"Well . . . remember when we arrested Adam Taurus?"

"Since then?" Ruby said, sounding let down. "That was weeks ago!"

"Two months, actually," Blake offered unhelpfully.

"Wait a second," said Weiss, her eyes still on Blake. " _You_ arrested Adam?"

"Hey, princess," Yang cut in. "Can I finish? One thing at a time, remember?"

Weiss pursed her lips, but waved her hand for Yang to continue.

"Well, it was like a week after that," said Yang. "Blake and I got to talking, and we both admitted we'd had feelings for each other for a while. Then one thing led to another and . . . well, you don't need to hear the details."

Blake's cheeks became redder.

Ruby cringed. "Ew, no."

"So, yeah," Yang finished lamely. "That's about it. We're dating now."

"But you've been dating for so long!" said Ruby. "And this is the first time I'm hearing about it!"

" _I'm_ to blame for that," Blake confessed before Yang could say anything. "And I'm sorry. We all know how . . . _complicated_ my last relationship was."

Weiss scoffed.

Blake ignored her. "And we didn't even know if the whole being partners while dating thing would even work. I wanted to take things slow—well, slow- _er_. I thought it'd be easier to figure it all out if no one knew for a while, so I asked Yang to keep it secret."

"But _two months_ ," said Ruby.

"I know," Yang said guiltily.

"And I had to find out by accident."

"You weren't supposed to be home," Yang deflected.

"And you lied to me!" Ruby complained. "You said you were working a secret case!"

Yang winced. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. And I'm sorry. To be fair, I _was_ working a case; I was looking for clues as to how Blake's such a good kisser . . . in her mouth."

Blake hid her face in her hands, but her slight smile didn't go unnoticed.

"We've still got some more work to do before we crack the case," said Yang.

"I've got another lead for us to follow up on later," said Blake.

Yang grinned. Ruby did not seem amused, and Weiss was still impatiently waiting for her turn to yell at Blake.

"If you have something to say, then say it," Blake shot at Weiss after a brief lull, all traces of humor gone.

"Oh?" said Weiss. "Am I _allowed_ to, or should I keep waiting until you're done discussing your love life?"

"I'm still not over _this_ —" Ruby gestured at Blake and Yang "—but I'm fine putting it on hold for now. Since _when_ do you two know each other?" She pointed from Weiss to Blake.

"Yeah, I want to know that, too," said Yang, now staring pointedly at her girlfriend. "I _told_ you Ruby's been hanging out with her, and you never said anything."

"Not surprising," said Weiss. "Her first instinct when things get difficult has always been to avoid the matter, run away, or _disappear_. I see nothing's changed."

"Seriously," said Ruby, "can one of you explain—?"

"We were friends," Blake revealed. "Back in Atlas. For about four years throughout most of high school and a while after."

"Closer to four and a half," Weiss corrected.

Blake jabbed a finger in her direction. "You know, that is _exactly_ the kind of behavior that drove us apart in the first place."

"No, _you_ did that by running around with a man that I _warned_ you about, numerous times, to start a terrorist organization."

"The White Flame I helped start was a peaceful _activist_ group," Blake defended. "And I'm the one who turned them in when I realized what he was planning."

"A lot of good that did. He just started a new, much worse, White Flame in Vale. I should've known you'd followed him here. Could never stay away from him for long, could you?"

" _He_ followed _me_ here! I didn't want anything to do with him after that. And in case you hadn't noticed, Adam's all the way in Atlas Supermax—with _your_ dad—and I'm right here."

Outraged, Weiss didn't even register shooting to her feet. "How _dare_ you?"

Four years. Four years since they last saw each other, and the first thing Blake does is throw _that_ in her face?

"Okay!" Ruby quickly placed herself between Weiss and Blake—who'd remained sitting—to try and defuse the situation. "Why don't we all just take a moment to relax and calm down a bit."

"She can take as many moments as she needs," said Weiss. "I'm done here. I have _nothing_ else to say to her." She started toward the door.

"Who's the one running away now, Weiss?" Blake sniped.

Weiss paused, bit her tongue, and resisted the bait. She left the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Weiss had first met Blake at the start of Sophomore year, the year Weiss had convinced her parents to let her transfer to public school. It hadn't been a warm introduction. Blake made a snap judgment based on Weiss's last name, and Weiss wasn't going to take that sitting down. So a heated argument erupted, and it had seemed they were destined to be enemies from that point forth. But then Blake learned that Weiss was a paragon, just like her, and saw the bigotry she'd had to face. They eventually bonded over it, and a close friendship developed.

But that obviously didn't last forever. Near the end of Junior year, Blake met Adam. She'd been arguing with a group of anti-paragon bullies at the edge of campus when he happened to walk by. He jumped in to defend her, using his semblance to threaten them. Blake believed him when he told her he'd activated it by accident, but Weiss always had her doubts. The two began dating, and after her graduation, they started their little "activist group" that would grow into something far more despicable.

The more infatuated Blake became with Adam, the more she and Weiss argued. Weiss knew he was a bad influence on her, but Blake refused to hear it. She often retaliated with verbal abuse on Weiss's father and the STC, which didn't make things better. Then, one day, they had a huge fight that resulted in a silence between the two. A few days later, there was a news story saying Adam Taurus and many other White Flame members had been arrested for conspiring to commit an act of terrorism, the authorities having received a tip-off from someone within the group. Weiss had immediately tried to call Blake—no answer. All further attempts to contact her were also ignored. And that was the unceremonious end to their friendship.

"Wow," Ruby said through a mouthful of tiramisu. She finished chewing and swallowed. "She ghosted you."

"If you want to put it that way." Weiss was poking at what was left of her mushroom risotto—she hadn't had the appetite for dessert. "I suppose it's apt—she _can_ turn invisible, after all."

Ruby's mouth twitched. "Was that a joke?"

Weiss hesitated. "Possibly."

"Yay! There might just be hope for you yet."

"What do you mean by that?" Weiss said, a bit wounded.

"I just mean it's nice to see that you might have a fun side. You're so serious all the time, you know?"

Weiss didn't have anything to say in response to that, but it left her thinking. She was fun . . . right?

Well, what _was_ "fun", anyway? She derived enjoyment out of many things—reading, critical thinking, plays, classical music, et cetera. But she doubted many people would jump to apply the word to those activities. Her interests not being exciting didn't make her a boring person, did they?

A few moments passed, then she realized—ice skating. That's an objectively fun hobby that she enjoyed. She was pretty good at it, too. See? She _did_ have a "fun side".

"So, do you have any idea _why_ Blake moved away without telling you?" Ruby asked.

Weiss, having just been enjoying a moment of silent triumph at having proven to herself she could be fun, was shaken from her train of thought. "I told you. We'd been arguing more and more for a while by then. I assume she just got sick of it. Or maybe she just couldn't bear to admit I was right about her precious boyfriend."

"She must've had a good reason. The Blake I know—"

"There is _nothing_ that can justify her leaving without so much as even saying goodbye."

"You could at least try talking to her. I'm sure she regrets it."

"It's been four years, Ruby, and my number hasn't changed. If she had any remorse, she'd have called a long time ago. I'll talk to her when she apologizes to me."

Ruby had nothing else to say on the matter, so she went back to finishing her dessert.

They left the restaurant a few minutes later. It was a nice afternoon, in all. Ruby had texted her the previous night, flat out banning all topics that could lead to Weiss yelling at her—Junior's, the investigation, Ruby's mishandling of her grief, and her asinine idea to become a superhero. Weiss had agreed to that rule, and then kept to her word. Consequently, they didn't argue at all throughout the meal.

"Alright, let's find us a cab," Ruby said as they stepped outside. "Oh, there's one." She spotted an available taxi stopped right at the curb, then led the way to it.

" _I'm_ paying for it," Weiss said as she slid into the backseat beside her. "It's only fair, since you bought dinner."

"Fine," said Ruby. "My place first, then." She told the driver her address.

"Oh, I'm not going to take you _there_ ," said the man in the driver's seat.

The doors suddenly locked. He reached over to the passenger seat and picked up a cane, which he used to adjust the rear-view mirror to give them a better view of his face. Below a black bowler hat and strikingly orange bangs, Weiss could see the green eyes of Roman Torchwick.

"Didn't your mothers ever tell you not to get in a car with strangers?" he said.


	11. V1C11: Unexpected Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my beta readers on FF.net: I Write Big, 0neWhoWanders, and Bardothren. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.

"So here's what's going to happen." Roman Torchwick shifted gears and pulled out onto the road. "We're just gonna go for a little drive, and we're gonna talk."

"What do you want with us?" Ruby asked. If she was afraid, she was hiding it very well.

Torchwick gave a confused look through the rear-view mirror. "Didn't I _just_ answer that? I swear I just answered that. Weren't you listening? Cruising and chatting, girls—we're cruising and chatting."

"And then . . . what? You're just gonna let us go?" said Ruby.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On what you know, and whether you do anything stupid."

Weiss wasn't hiding her fear. Her eyes were wide, her heart was pounding, and she was surprised to look down and find herself clutching Ruby's hand so tightly she might break it. Weiss loosened her hold—even though the girl showed no signs of pain—but didn't let go. After being pinned against a wall at knife-point and staring down the barrels of several guns, merely being in a car with the most notorious criminal in Vale should be less terrifying by comparison—it wasn't.

"Get us out of here!" Weiss hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

"Not yet," Ruby muttered.

" _What?_ " Weiss was incredulous, but didn't dare to look directly at her.

Ruby raised her voice and directed it toward the front seat. "Where are you taking us?"

"Nowhere," Torchwick answered. "Not exactly in my best interest to show you how to get to my base of operations when you can just teleport to freedom at any moment. So I'm just going to circle around the block for a while."

"How do you know about that?" Ruby sounded surprised.

A smile appeared on Torchwick's face. "Haven't you figured it out yet? Junior's on my payroll. Now shut up. Not to sound cliché, but _I'm_ supposed to be asking the questions."

"How did you find us?" Weiss asked, her voice surprisingly steady.

There was a pause before he replied. "Alright, I'm gonna allow you just that one, Snow White, because I relish the chance to boast. Honestly, I was about sixty-five percent sure it was you two at the club before you reacted to my 'teleport' comment. Oops. Thanks for clearing that up for me."

Weiss's heart sank.

"Those freaky twins of Junior's—god, they creep me out," Torchwick continued, "they mentioned one of you claimed to have a sister for a cop. That _really_ narrowed down the search. And Junior happens to have had dealings with a number of female cops, so I figured I'd start there. Did some digging, found out which of those pigs had sisters, and then it was just a matter of waiting and watching my handful of candidates. Until finally, I get a call that _you_ , Miss Rose, were seen meeting up with someone who matches the description of the other woman at the club. So I stole a cab, moseyed on down here, and waited. Not bad detective work, if I do say so myself."

Neither of them stated whether they agreed.

"So here's the situation," said Torchwick. "Junior meets a lot of people and gets asked a lot of questions. I told him, 'Anyone asks about me, _I_ wanna know about it.' Then I said, 'Anyone so much as mentions _my_ boss, they don't leave the building. _I_ need to meet them pronto.' And you two just so happened to describe her to a T, right before that meddling asshole in the armor showed up and made my life a lot more difficult. So the question I have for you is, who the hell are you and what do you want with her?"

"Your boss?" Weiss said, acting confused. "There's little guarantee that we're even talking about the same person. There are plenty of tall, pale-haired women in Vale."

"Ah. That would certainly make this a lot easier. But the thing is, you also asked about Bole Maze—a buffoon that _she_ pawned off on me. Now tell me that's a coincidence."

Weiss tried, but she couldn't come up with a decent lie fast enough. Ruby's silence suggested that she was having the same issue.

"That's what I thought," said Torchwick. "You didn't exactly leave much up to the imagination. Now, one more time—who the hell are you, and what do you want with her?"

Weiss glanced helplessly at Ruby but was disappointed to find that she didn't appear to have any bright ideas either. They were backed into a corner, and the only way out was with Ruby's semblance. But though Weiss was still holding her hand, the silver-eyed girl was evidently fine with staying right where they were.

"Can one of you answer the damn question?" the criminal said after a silence. "I'm a busy man, I have places to be."

"We don't know!" said Ruby, her tone convincingly desperate. "We have no idea who she is or what she's doing. Neither of us have even seen her face."

"Then tell me why you're asking seedy club owners about her."

"We were looking for Bole Maze," Weiss fibbed, her mind working at a mile a minute to come up with something believable. "He . . . harassed me a couple of years ago, on multiple occasions. He made advances on me, and then got aggressive when I rejected him. And on the last occasion, he got . . . _handsy_. I'm not sure what he would have done if that woman—I only saw the back of her—hadn't called him off. I reported him to the police, but they never did anything, so I tried to forget about it.

"But then I saw him again a couple of months ago. He behaved exactly the same, though he didn't seem to remember me. This time I talked to _her_ sister—" Weiss pointed at Ruby "—but she said they couldn't do anything without evidence. I'd hoped if I could find him again and get his actions on video, it'd be enough to press charges. We didn't have much luck, so we went to Junior and asked about him and the woman. And that's as far as we got."

As soon as she finished, Weiss held her breath. Ruby gave her hand a squeeze. Seconds passed, during which Torchwick gave a few glances at her through the mirror. It was impossible to tell what he thought of her story.

"See, this is why I hate cops," Torchwick finally said. Weiss sighed in relief. "Well, _one of_ the reasons, at least. Justice is an illusion that seldom serves the people who actually need it. But, with that said, Bole's dead. Had to have that loose end killed weeks ago."

"He's . . . dead?"

"Feel free to thank me."

Weiss pretended to be shocked by this "news" as Ruby just looked quietly thoughtful. The girl freed her hand from Weiss's and rested her head in it, repeatedly tapping her finger against her cranium as she continued to stare up at the driver's seat.

"Don't sound too grateful," Torchwick said sardonically. "I only gave you what you were after."

"I didn't want him dead!" said Weiss. "I wanted him arrested!"

"Hmm." He was quiet as they came up to a large intersection, stopping when the light turned red. "Here's the deal, ladies—I don't want to kill you. But if I have to, then I have to. And as an accomplished liar, I have to give you props on that one—I actually still think it's possible you're telling the truth. But that's irrelevant."

Weiss looked over at Ruby, who'd begun kicking her foot. The girl was still tapping her skull, apparently deep in thought, but her eyes were wide and moving between Weiss and Torchwick.

"I need to know that you're not a threat," Torchwick continued. "You two look innocent enough, but I know firsthand that looks can be deceiving. So I'm afraid that—"

As Weiss continued to stare at Ruby, it clicked. She allowed herself a moment of trepidation, then realized that she had nothing to lose. Her previous hopes that he might let them go peacefully were gone. So, she did as Ruby wanted and lunged forward, thrusting her hand through the open window that divided the front of the cab from the back. Weiss grabbed the side of the criminal's head and closed her eyes.

"What the—?" Torchwick started.

Then she entered his mind.

* * *

The first thing Weiss noticed was the thunder, and then the raindrops pelting her skin. As she drew her rapier, unsure what mental illnesses someone as nefarious as Roman Torchwick could be harboring, she realized she wasn't in the Emerald Forest. She was in Forever Fall, like the time she'd failed to cure Jaune Arc. She didn't know what to make of that.

Weiss took a few steps, looking around for a memory. She couldn't immediately see any, and worried whether she even would. The storm was unprecedented—what else could be different?

A pungent scent filled the air, similar to chlorine, and then the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end. She looked down at her silver weapon just as a metallic taste entered her mouth. Quickly, she dropped it and dove to the side. A moment later, a deafening bang shook the forest. Weiss pushed herself to her feet and turned around. She could hear nothing but ringing, but saw a blackened spot where she'd just been standing, as well as the shattered remains of her sword.

For a time, she just stood there, dumbfounded, while her hearing slowly came back to her. She'd never been caught defenseless in a mindscape before. If a Grimm attacked, there was no way to kill it. She could only hope that Torchwick was somehow completely sane.

When the ringing had lessened enough that she could hear the downpour once again, she set off. It was unclear how accurate the rules of lightning would be here—the current hadn't traveled to her through the ground, after all. But she was here for information, and she wouldn't find it by cowering away from the storm.

She tried to process these new developments, to theorize what they meant, but it was hard to do that and stay focused at the same time. Not being entirely alert in uncertain conditions such as these could be catastrophic.

She soon found what she was looking for, only a couple of minutes after she'd begun walking. Suspended in midair near a sapling was a window. Weiss hurriedly approached it and stared through the glass. She saw through Torchwick's eyes into what looked like an empty stable. Kneeling before him was a man on his knees, his hands bound behind his back and his face bruised. His gaze darted around, fearful, searching fruitlessly for an escape.

"Your gun, Neo," Torchwick ordered, excitement in his voice. He held his hand out to the right, and someone placed a pistol in it, but his gaze never left his prey. "I've waited a long time for this, Perry."

"They had me dead to rights, man," said the captive. "They offered me a deal—I had no choice!"

Torchwick cocked the gun, which caused his victim to flinch. "But you _did_ have a choice. That's what really pisses me off. You could've chosen not to rob the damn store. We already had the fucking jewelry!"

"I'm sorry!"

"I lost five years because of you!" Torchwick kicked him in the gut, making Perry cry out and keel over onto his side. "I'd say it's too late for sorry, but there was never a time for it in the first place."

He clicked the safety off and aimed the gun, his finger on the trigger. Perry clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the bullet to come. But seconds passed, and it never did. Torchwick suddenly lowered the barrel toward the ground and took a few steps closer to his victim.

"In movies, this is usually a mistake," he said, "but I'm going to take the opportunity to monologue. I think I've earned that much, don't you?"

Perry didn't respond.

Torchwick sighed. "We could've built an empire, Perry. We could've filled a lake with lien and sailed a fleet of yachts over it. I've never been a big believer in destiny, but that was mine. You took it from me. That first robbery was supposed to be the first of many. We executed it flawlessly, but you couldn't wait one measly little week until we fenced off the goods. And because of that, you're going to be drowning at the bottom of that lake.

"Oh, yes, there's still going to be a lake. There won't be any yachts, and it's going to be a lot smaller than initially planned—more of a large pond, really—you know what? Fuck this metaphor; it sounded better in my head. I'm just going to speak normally. Since my time in a cell, I've learned that some things are important enough to make sacrifices for. I wanted to be a multi-billionaire, an inspiration to every kid who swipes a candy bar from a grocery store and falls in love with the thrill.

"Now, though, I'll have to settle for a few hundred million. One big heist, the wealthiest bank in all of Vacuo—its contents are mine for the taking, then I retire. You could've been right there with me and the rest of my loyal henchmen. You could've died a wealthy man, Perry. Instead, you'll die in the dirt like the rat you are."

He aimed the gun. Weiss looked away and covered her ears.

"Thanks for staying so quiet through all this," said Torchwick. "You always were a good listener."

"Wait, I—!"

_Bang!_

Torchwick allowed a few seconds of resonating silence, then said, "How was that? Dramatic enough?"

Weiss turned back around, but the window was gone.

* * *

The rain came down harder, and the thunder clapped more frequently. It felt like the weather itself was telling her that she wasn't welcome. She wondered whether it was worth it to continue. At any moment, she could be struck by lightning, or a Grimm could attack—likely a Geist, if any, based on what she'd learned about Torchwick so far. That'd wear her down in the real world, which wouldn't help her chances of fleeing to safety.

"Leave," Torchwick's voice suddenly echoed all around her, faint. Then again, louder. "Leave!"

Weiss stopped in her tracks, then actually decided to heed his warning. But before she could, another memory caught her eye. She hesitated, standing indecisive for several seconds, and ultimately ran straight for it.

Torchwick was walking down a windowless hallway toward a heavy metal door. Weiss could hear at least two more sets of footsteps following along behind him. When he reached the end, he punched 592333 into the keypad—Weiss instinctively committed the code to memory. The door slid open into the wall.

The room was clearly a holding cell, but an unconventional one. It was a lot bigger than normal—about the size of an average living room. Other than the expected toilet and cot in two corners, there was also a shower, and the rest of the space was dedicated to exercise equipment. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all covered in white plates with red light shining through the cracks. Weiss recognized the technology from images she'd seen online—it was a semblance inhibiting chamber. Even the STC hadn't had access to that.

Stranger yet, though, was the cell's occupant. Based on all of that, you'd expect a huge, robust paragon with a powerful semblance. Instead, it was a teenage girl. At least a couple years shy of adulthood, she stood erect with her back against the far wall, her arms crossed behind her. Her brown hair had been unevenly cut close to the scalp, and she was barefoot, wearing only a tank top and cheap, loose-fitting pants. She was short, even for her age and she looked healthy, but no fitter than average. The unique thing about her was her eyes. Besides the fact that one was brown while the other was pink, they both conveyed a palpable fear, but also a strange coldness. It was like she was imagining a hundred different ways to kill the man staring at her, but believed that doing so would be the worst thing possible.

"Wait outside," Torchwick ordered his men.

"Boss?" one said nervously.

"You heard me."

He took a single step into the room, and that was all Weiss could see of that memory, for she suddenly heard snapping twigs and crunching leaves behind her. She whipped around and reached for her hip, having momentarily forgotten the fate of her rapier. She prepared to run, but was stunned by what was approaching her. It wasn't a Grimm—it was Torchwick, dressed as he was in the real world but unarmed, and he had no face.

"Leave!" Torchwick's voice echoed from the sky once more, louder than ever.

The faceless Torchwick reached Weiss and threw a punch. She barely raised her arms in time to block it, but the force sent her stumbling back. She should've collided with the window, but it had evidently disappeared. He attacked again, striking with one fist after another. Weiss backed away from the first two, then rolled under the third, winding up behind him. She aimed a blow at his back, and it struck true. At the same instant, the ground began to shake, which gave her pause. That might actually damage him.

As Torchwick's avatar turned around, Weiss dropped to her knees. She closed her eyes, the last thing she saw being his foot coming for her face. It never connected. When she opened her eyes again, she was back in the cab.

"—hell? Agh!" The real Torchwick swatted her hand away and clutched his temple, his face scrunched up like he was suffering from a spontaneous ice cream headache. "Oh, that was a mistake," he groaned through his teeth.

Ruby suddenly gripped Weiss's arm. A moment later, Weiss felt a tug in her gut, and then she was falling on her rear outside the vehicle.

"Come on!" Ruby instantly pulled her to her feet and started tugging her away.

Weiss ran with her and didn't look back. She saw that they were going deeper into an alleyway, another street visible at the far end. It didn't sound like anyone was chasing them, but she wanted to get as far away from that man as possible.

They'd only been running for a few seconds when a gust of wind rushed past them, immediately followed by a woman appearing in their path. They skidded to a halt, and Weiss instantly recognized her as the girl from the memory, except older. She looked to be in her mid-twenties now, still standing no higher than five feet tall. Her hair had grown out below her shoulders; she'd dyed the right half pink and left the rest brown. She was dressed quite fashionably, complete with a pair of gun holsters at her hips and a pink parasol resting on her shoulder. Her heterochromatic eyes didn't look the slightest bit fearful, this time—there was only anger.

"Who are you?" Ruby asked. "What do you want?"

The woman said nothing. She took a slow step forward and closed her umbrella. She twisted the end of the handle and pulled, separating from it a long, thin sword. She took another step forward, having all the poise of a cat about to pounce on its prey. Weiss and Ruby began to retreat backward without taking their eyes off her. Then the woman raised her sword and pointed it at them, holding the umbrella part down at her side like a sheath.

"Whoever you are, I'm sure we can talk about this," Weiss said, her voice shaky.

The woman raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. Then she opened her mouth, wide enough for them to see that she had no tongue. She closed it and smiled at the looks of horror on their faces, then began to advance, faster now.

"Okay . . ." said Ruby. "So that's a no on the talking, then."

Weiss was about to turn and run back the way they came, but then a noise caused them all to halt. Something was coming toward them, something with loud, metal footsteps. Weiss chanced a look behind her and saw none other than the Protector of Vale sprinting to their rescue at great speed. When the vigilante reached them, they effortlessly leaped over their heads and landed between them and the tongueless woman, shield raised and sword drawn.

The woman's glare deepened, and for a moment, she just stood there. Then she sped away in a quick blur and a burst of wind, gone in a second. The hero relaxed their pose and looked around, but it didn't seem like she was coming back. Then they stared up at the rooftop above them and took a stance, one Weiss had seen once before on the day she'd gotten her scar.

"Wait!" Weiss said hurriedly. "Who _are_ you?"

The Protector hesitated, but said nothing.

"This is the third time you've saved me," said Weiss.

"And the second time you've saved _me_!" Ruby added.

"Why are you following me?" Weiss asked.

Their sigh sounded strange through the voice modulator, but it was unmistakable. The Protector sheathed their sword and turned to face them. Slowly, as if they were waiting for something to stop them, the vigilante raised their hands up to their head. They pressed something, and the helmet came loose, allowing them to take it off.

Weiss gasped.


	12. V1C12: Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Credit to my beta readers on FF.net: 0neWhoWanders, Bardothren, and I Write Big. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.

"Wait, _Jaune?_ " Ruby exclaimed. "The Protector's a _boy_?" She said both things as if they were equally shocking.

" _Man_." Jaune scowled as he tucked the helmet beneath his arm. "And _Pyrrha_ was the only Protector of Vale."

Ruby's eyes widened even further. "Did you _know_ her?"

A shadow passed over his face, and he gave a slight nod, as if anything more would be painful.

"Wow," Ruby sighed in complete and utter admiration.

"Now hold on a second," said Weiss, having finally been able to gather her thoughts enough to speak. " _You're_ the one who's saved my life three times?"

"Yes," said Jaune.

" _You?_ "

"A simple 'thank you' would've been fine," he said, wounded.

"But you're . . ." Weiss trailed off, unable to think of a way to end that sentence that wasn't rude. "Why have you been following me?"

"I've been following _Ruby_."

The girl blinked. "Me?"

"I put a tracker/listening device on your hoodie," he explained. "You never go anywhere without it."

" _You did?_ " Ruby immediately began searching herself for the bug. "When?"

"When you came by for my notes. I was worried you were getting in over your heads, so I stuck it in your hood on your way out the door."

Instead of simply taking off the jacket, the girl awkwardly tugged her hood over her shoulder so she could search it. Even knowing the bug was there, she struggled to find it.

"So that first time you rescued me . . ." said Weiss.

"It was right after our appointment," said Jaune. "I saw those men cornering you from my window, and I jumped in to help."

"And since we borrowed your notes, you've just been following her everywhere?"

"No. I'd been listening in whenever I got a chance in order to see what you two were up to. I heard Ruby talking to her sister about Junior, and then she immediately called you to make plans to visit a club. I had to miss a class so I could be there. After _that_ , I started watching her whenever I could—to keep her safe."

"Why didn't you just _tell_ me—? Ooh! I found it!" Ruby began picking at something stuck to her hood.

"Don't pull on it; it's latched onto the threads," Jaune told her. "You'll ruin your jacket."

Ruby stopped. "It's so _tiny_. What kind of battery is in this thing? How much did it cost? Was it always red, or does it blend in to whatever it's connected to?"

"It blends in, and I don't know. We shouldn't be talking out in the open like this."

"You first saved me two months ago," said Weiss. "If you've been a vigilante all this time, then why have you only appeared in the news twice—both instances being when Ruby and I were in danger?"

"Because I'm _not_ a vigilante. I told you—Pyrrha was the only Protector of Vale."

"But," said Ruby, "I thought you were her successor."

He shifted his gaze. "I was supposed to be. But I gave that up almost as soon as I started it. I'm only wearing this because _you_ won't stop trying to get yourself killed."

" _Thank_ you!" Weiss said, making an exasperated hand gesture.

"The point is, I'm no hero," said Jaune.

"But you saved _us_ ," Ruby argued. "That's pretty heroic to me."

"I'm nothing special. Most of it's the armor. Look—" he glanced over his shoulder "—like I said, we shouldn't talk here. We need to get somewhere safe."

"Do you _know_ of somewhere safe?" Weiss asked.

"Yes," said Jaune.

"Ooh!" said Ruby. "Are you going to take us to your secret lair? The Protector Cave? The . . . Shield Den? Or, uh . . . Oh, the Sheath!"

He stared at her. "What?"

"You know, where you hang up your sword."

"That's . . . actually kind of cool," he admitted. "But there's no lair. It's just a safe house."

"How are we supposed to _get_ there?" said Weiss. "If Torchwick is to be believed, you're not the only one who's been following Ruby. And we won't exactly look all that inconspicuous walking down the street beside _you_ wearing _that_."

"We'll just have to travel where no one can see us." He brought the back of his arm up to eye level and tapped on it with his other hand, causing a screen to light up.

"Ooh, is that a wrist communicator?" Ruby tried to get behind him to see it, but he shooed her away. "Are you going to call in a self-driving Protector-mobile or something?"

Jaune didn't respond. He continued tapping away at the screen for half a minute, then said, "Oh, there's one right here."

"There's what here?" Ruby said, looking around for something impressive. Weiss couldn't help doing the same, though she reeled in her own curiosity.

The two watched in anticipation as Jaune put the helmet back on and walked fifteen feet up the alley, stopping by a dumpster. He pushed it aside, revealing the manhole cover that had been hidden beneath it.

Weiss stared at it for two seconds, then she said, "Oh you have _got_ to be joking."

"There's a shower at the safe house," Jaune told her with a distorted voice. He drew his sword and used it as a lever to pop the lid off.

* * *

"We're nearly there," Jaune announced through his voice modulator.

"Oh thank god." Weiss sounded as if she had a cold, for she'd been covering her face and pinching her nose for the entirety of the hour-long journey. It had been even worse than she could have imagined. When they reached the surface, she'd be throwing away her shoes and completely repressing this entire experience from her memory. So much vile gunk had gotten on her legs and feet that she'd need at least a dozen showers to be able to feel clean again.

Jaune finally stopped at a set of iron rungs leading upward. Weiss was tempted to insist that she climb first so that she could leave this abhorrent place as soon as possible, but she didn't want to give anyone the ability to see up her skirt. So Jaune led the way up the ladder—he was probably the only one able to lift the manhole cover, anyway. Next went Ruby—who wore pants—and Weiss took up the rear.

They emerged near the Vale Canal, behind a row of industrial buildings guarded by fences. Weiss immediately inhaled as much fresh air as her lungs could take, then let out a massive sigh of relief. She'd been looking forward to basking in the sunlight, but night had fallen while they were down there. City lights were welcome too, she supposed—anything but dank darkness was.

"Hey, we're not far from Beacon," Ruby said after taking in their surroundings. Though she hadn't complained about trekking through the sewers, she looked glad to be out of them.

"Just a coincidence," said Jaune. "Pyrrha needed somewhere central for a base. Beacon just happens to be central, too, but she never enrolled."

"Did she go to school somewhere else?" Ruby asked.

"No, she . . ." He was silent for a moment, then shook his head and set off. "We'll talk inside."

They followed after him. Weiss kept looking around, wondering where this safe house was, but she had no guesses. There were no actual houses anywhere in sight—only apartment complexes across the water. She doubted it could be any of these industrial buildings, as there was no way Jaune could afford one. But, then again, he did own a high-tech suit of armor probably worth an absurd amount.

He stopped at the second to last building—a small warehouse. He punched a code into the fence gate and held it open for Weiss and Ruby, then closed it behind them. They approached from the back, passing a few shipping containers on the way to an emergency exit. The door had no handles, so he opened it remotely with his arm device.

"How do you _afford_ all this?" Weiss couldn't help asking.

"I don't," said Jaune as he waited for the two women to enter ahead of him. "Pyrrha had a friend who designed and paid for everything, including this suit."

The interior wasn't that impressive. There were a few piles of boxes next to empty racks, some wooden pallets littered across the floor, and a single forklift, but there were no wares. A layer of dust covered everything. The building didn't look like it had been used for its intended purpose in a while. If it weren't for the functioning lights and ventilation, Weiss might have assumed it'd been abandoned.

"I'm . . . not seeing a shower," she observed.

Jaune ignored her. He walked over to the rightmost wall and tapped on a seemingly random portion of it, which revealed a secret panel. He took off his helmet and right gauntlet so he could scan his palm and retina. It also required a passcode for extra measure. Once he'd done all that, a rectangular stretch of floor raised up and split apart, uncovering a hidden staircase.

"Cool," Ruby sighed. Weiss suspected that she was having the best day of her life, despite their near abduction and potential deaths an hour past.

Jaune descended first, then Ruby, then Weiss. She heard the floor panel slide shut behind her. The stairs went down about the depth of two basements before leveling out. At the bottom was a single blast-door with another electronic lock keeping it shut. This one only asked for a code before admitting them entrance—Jaune had to enter it twice, as he messed up the first time.

"Okay, this is _definitely_ a lair," Weiss said as she stepped through the doorway.

" _Right?_ " said Ruby, who immediately began to run up to and gawk at everything.

The place was a vigilante's lair, no doubt about it. An advanced computer with six monitors sat against the middle of the far wall. Off to the side of that was what almost looked like a metal dresser—a rectangular stand with many drawers along its face. Four metal mannequins were lined up to the left near a weapon rack. The entire front-left corner was left bare, except for a single humanoid robot. There were several cabinets and shelves off to the right, interspersed between three doors. And all of the walls were heavily reinforced, well enough to probably survive a significant explosion.

" _Supervillains_ have lairs," Jaune said. "Superheroes have hideouts."

"What's this?" Ruby examined the currently inactive robot first. It was featureless and all black, its inner mechanisms visible through cracks and joints.

"It's a training bot." Jaune was over by the mannequins, hanging up his sword and shield on a rack. There were two more items on it—a bo staff and a smaller shield, more like a buckler than the kite he'd been using. "You can spar with it and run a bunch of different programs. It's almost as good as a real mentor."

"It knows martial arts?"

"Whatever you can name. It's useless outside of here, though, because it needs several camera angles to work properly, and familiar surroundings."

The pieces of Jaune's armor began mechanically shifting so he could take them off and apply them to a dummy, revealing the regular clothes he had on underneath. Ruby joined him over there, looking at the one mannequin that wasn't naked. It had on a suit of armor similar to his, but was colored white with bronze accents instead of black and silver. And unlike the suit Jaune currently wore, which was androgynous in appearance, this one was clearly shaped for a man.

"What's this one for?" Ruby asked.

"That was _my_ suit," said Jaune. "I only wore it once, and it's just an empty shell now. We moved the exoskeleton from it to this one after . . . the assault."

"We?" said Weiss. She'd been standing back, taking everything in from a distance.

Jaune paused, and was quiet.

"There are four mannequins here," said Weiss.

He sighed, then stepped out of his boots, kneeling down to fit them to the model. "At first, it was just Pyrrha. Then there was Re—" he stopped himself and cleared his throat "—two others. And she had one made for me, too. I never wanted to be a vigilante, though. I only asked her to train me so I could defend myself if I ever needed to."

"I always thought she worked alone," said Ruby.

"There were a lot of copycats running around, then," said Jaune. "Not that there aren't now. Everyone thought they were just two more. They only joined her a few months before Salem came, so they never became famous like her."

"What happened to them?"

"They moved to Mistral, chasing the guy who exposed Pyrrha's identity. I'm not sure if they caught him. We're not on the best of terms right now."

"Exposed her? But I thought she turned herself in."

"Wait," said Weiss. "She was arrested?"

Ruby frowned at her. "Well, yeah, duh. Didn't you know?"

"I used to live in Atlas, remember? I didn't keep up with the goings-on of this city before Salem attacked."

"Oh, right. Sorry. Well, it was like a week before the assault. She revealed herself on live TV and turned herself in to the police. She broke out not long after so she could face Salem's forces."

"You never wondered why she did it?" said Jaune.

"Of course I have!" said Ruby. "Everyone has."

"There was a bomb," he told them. "Beneath the city plaza. This guy—or girl, I still don't know—hacked her phone and showed her live footage of it. If she turned herself in and revealed her secret to the world, he'd deactivate it. If anyone tried to defuse it or evacuate the area, he'd set it off early. There was no choice to make."

"Oh," Ruby said quietly. She went over to the weapon rack to examine his sword. "Wait, this is dull."

"Well, yeah," said Jaune. "You don't think Pyrrha was out there cutting people in half, do you?"

"Well, no. But swords are supposed to be sharp!"

"It's got other features. It's blunt and heavy, so it's good for knocking people off their feet. You can shock people with it, if you need to. The tip is kind of like a magnetic grappling hook, too—it can shoot out and stick to guns . . . or knives." He glanced at Weiss. "So, it's good for disarming."

Weiss had an internal, "Ohhh," moment. Even after all this time, she'd still never been able to make complete sense of what her savior had done that day. Everything had happened so quickly, and her head hadn't exactly been in its clearest state.

"Awesome," said Ruby. She next went to admire the suit, now that he'd fully transferred it from himself to a mannequin. "How does this work? You said it had an exoskeleton. Is this actually the armor that _she_ wore?"

"Yeah," Jaune answered. "When she used it, it was mostly just protective, with a few extra features. The exoskeleton is meant for me, so it's like I have her semblance, but even stronger. Pyrrha called it enhanced body strength. She could run faster than anyone else, jump higher, lift more, and hit harder. But I can only do that with the suit."

"So you're _not_ a paragon, then?" said Weiss.

He shook his head.

She couldn't help being impressed. Despite him giving all the credit to the technology, she knew there was more to it than that. Not just anyone could simply put on the suit and do the things he'd done—Weiss was sure that _she_ couldn't.

Jaune turned and walked to the computer. Weiss was watching him, seeing what he might do with it, until Ruby grabbed her attention.

"Hey, Weiss!" The girl had detached the helmet from the rest of the suit and put it on herself. "What do you think? Good look for me?"

"You look like a dunce," Weiss said bluntly.

Ruby's shoulders slumped. "You're no fun."

"I ice skate!" Weiss objected.

Ruby tilted her head. "Huh?"

"Never mind. Just take that thing off."

"Fine." Ruby removed the helmet and tried to return it to the model, but fumbled and accidentally dropped it. It fell to the ground with a loud clatter, followed by a sharp intake from Jaune's direction. Weiss looked over to see he'd whirled around with a frantic look in his eyes.

"Sorry, sorry!" Ruby hastily picked up the dropped object, nervously inspecting it for damage. "It slipped! I don't think I broke it, I hope."

Jaune shut his eyes and took a shaky breath, his fists clenched and slightly quivering. As he exhaled, the tension left him along with the carbon dioxide. "It's fine," he said, once again calm. "It'd be useless if something like that could break it."

"Oh, right," Ruby said, relieved. She returned the helmet to its place, more carefully this time.

As Jaune turned back to the screen, typing something into the keyboard, Weiss wasn't watching the screens—she was watching _him_. That reaction had jogged her memory, and pieces were now sliding into place.

"You have PTSD," she remembered.

Jaune froze.

"He does?" said Ruby.

"You said you only wore that armor the one time." Weiss pointed at the suit he'd described as an empty shell. "And you said that you removed the exoskeleton from it _after_ the assault."

Still, Jaune said nothing. He was as rigid as a board. Ruby seemed to be slowly comprehending what Weiss was getting it. Then her eyes grew wide.

"You were there," Weiss said, awed, though she hadn't needed to.

"You _fought_ Salem?" said Ruby.

"Yes, I was there, and _no_ , I didn't fight Salem," Jaune said without turning around, his hands clenching the desk. "Pyrrha did that alone. I was down on the ground with Re—" he stopped himself "—the other two."

"What was it like?" Ruby asked. "Did you see her machine up close?"

Jaune was silent for a few seconds, then he raised a hand and pointed off to his right, first at the middle door, then the farthest, and finally the nearest, saying, "Bathroom's there, bunk beds are in there, and kitchen is there. There's only one shower, so you'll have to take turns."

"But—" Ruby started to say.

"Just . . ." He sighed. "Leave me alone. We'll talk more in the morning."

"Oh." Ruby deflated. There was an awkward silence until she looked over at Weiss and said, "You can have the bathroom first. I need to call Yang—tell her I won't be home tonight."

Weiss continued to stare sympathetically at Jaune's back for a few more seconds, then gave Ruby a nod. The girl pulled out her scroll while Weiss walked to the bathroom, pushing the door open and closing herself inside.

* * *

The living quarters had four bunk beds and twice as many trunks, enough for eight people. Room dividers were placed between each bed. When Weiss woke up, she found Jaune still asleep—or pretending to still be asleep—and Ruby was out in the main room, having figured out how to operate the training bot. At the moment, she was just mimicking moves it showed her and practicing her form. The thing spoke in a mechanical voice, giving out simple instructions and feedback, but moved so realistically it was eerie—if she couldn't see through to its inner workings, Weiss might've been convinced it was a real person wearing a costume.

Weiss let her friend be and went to the bathroom, taking another shower just to be safe. There was a cabinet in there filled with still-packaged supplies for every need, so she could brush her teeth and shave without fear of using used items. It also had a closet with basic clothes in various sizes, which is where she got what she currently wore—a t-shirt and sweatpants, leaving her feet bare except for a pair of socks. Whoever set this place up had thought of everything.

Once Weiss had finished in there, Ruby joined her in the kitchen for a mediocre breakfast. The room contained many shelves of canned and dry foods, a freezer, and a dining table. Needless to say, the food was meant to last rather than taste good. So they ate beans and peas while Weiss finally took the chance to fill Ruby in on what she'd seen inside Torchwick's mind.

"The largest bank in Vacuo," Ruby said thoughtfully as soon as she'd finished describing the first memory. "But that heist was five years ago. If he said he was going to retire after, then why is he robbing banks here now?"

Weiss shrugged. "He said that some things are worth making sacrifices for. Perhaps he lost whatever—or whomever—he was referring to."

"Could be . . . What else did you see?"

Weiss recounted the second memory for her, of the tongueless girl in the cell. It made more sense to her in hindsight. Powerful semblances have been at the heart of some of history's most significant conflicts. Salem herself could control metal, according to the CAB—it was postulated that she even had the ability to detect it within the ground, which she'd used to gather gold for funds and the metals she needed to construct her colossal weapon. So it was understandable why a girl with super-speed would be locked away. But who was she to Torchwick, and why wasn't he keeping her imprisoned now?

"It sounds like he's turned her into a human weapon," said Ruby.

"I don't know," Weiss said doubtfully. "That seems like a bit of a leap."

"Think about it. She was kept in a semblance blocker with only the necessities and exercise equipment, like all he needed from her was to stay alive and stay fit. You said she was basically dressed in rags, right? And he cut out her tongue! He took away her ability to speak so she wouldn't argue against orders or talk back at all.

"The fact is, Torchwick's done all these perfect robberies where he gets away long before the police ever arrive, and so many so quickly. This woman _has_ to be the reason. He acts like he's invincible, letting everyone know who he is and what he's doing, because he has a bodyguard who can protect him from anyone who tries to take him down."

Weiss still wasn't convinced. The girl's theory had merits, but also holes. If this woman was nothing more than a slave soldier, why give her appearance so much personality? The dyed hair, fancy clothes, parasol—it all helped her stand out in a crowd. That seemed counterintuitive.

"There was a girl," said Jaune, catching both women by surprise; he'd entered the room without either of them noticing. "Seven years old when her parents were murdered and she was kidnapped. Rumors had gotten out that she had a speed semblance, so someone took her. The police never found her."

"Where did you learn that?" Ruby asked.

"I found it online last night, with some digging."

"And you think this girl is the woman we saw yesterday?"

"That girl would be around twenty-four right now, which fits. And it's the same semblance. _And_ she was born in Vacuo, the same city Torchwick grew up in. There are too many coincidences."

"See, Weiss?" said Ruby. "She was taken as a child because of her semblance and raised to be a weapon."

Weiss had to concede that the evidence was damning, but something still didn't feel right. After pondering it for a few seconds, she figured out why.

"The timeline doesn't fit," she said.

"What?" said Jaune.

"Torchwick couldn't have been that old when that girl was taken—barely an adult. And he also spent five years in prison, way after her abduction. It doesn't line up."

"Hmm," said Ruby. "Well, someone else must've trained and brainwashed her, then Torchwick bought her . . . or stole her."

"Could be," Weiss admitted.

Ruby looked to Jaune. "That girl—she have a name?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Neo Politan."

Ruby frowned. "Like the ice cream?"

"Two words. Neo, Politan."

"Well, if my last name was Politan I'd name my kid Neo, too."

"Neo," Weiss repeated, having just remembered. "Torchwick said that name."

Both of them looked at her.

"When?" said Ruby.

"In the first memory. He asked someone named Neo for their gun—well, he demanded it, really. But he never looked at them."

"That proves it, then," said Jaune.

There was a short lull, eventually broken by Ruby. "So . . . what do we do now?"

"We take this to the police, obviously," said Weiss. "There's no other option."

"No," Jaune said.

Weiss stared at him. "Pardon me?"

"No," he repeated. "This is too big for the cops. Torchwick acts like he's invincible because he basically _is_. They'll never be able to arrest him with this Neo girl at large. A lot of people could die in the attempt."

"That's insane!" said Weiss. "Police have equipment designed specifically for combating criminal paragons."

"Yeah, but they're not prepared for anything like _this_ ," said Ruby. "All those tools are useless if she can just run up and kill the cops before they can even try to use them."

"Then there's no hope at all."

"That's not true." Jaune fished something out of his pocket and placed it on the table—a small metal disc with a glass container in the center holding a red liquid. Several needles stuck out along the rim, propping it up a few centimeters like legs.

"What is it?" Ruby picked it up faster than Jaune could try to swat her hand away.

"Be careful!" he warned. "That's a semblance inhibitor."

Ruby rolled her eyes, looking closely at the object she held between two fingers. "Very funny. What is it actually?"

"I just told you," Jaune said without a trace of humor. "Put it down—you might break it."

Ruby obeyed, but was still in denial. "That's impossible. Semblance inhibitors are _huge_ —like whole rooms. And they drain a ton of electricity. That's why there are only a handful of prisons in Remnant that have them."

"I'm telling you, this is real. The effect wears off after a few hours, but if a paragon is stuck with this, it completely stops them from using their semblance. I'd let you test it on yourself, but I only have a few—and I've heard it's not exactly comfortable."

"But no one's ever been able to make a small-scale semblance inhibitor before. The closest prototypes are bigger than a person and really harmful to people—potentially lethal."

Weiss watched Ruby curiously. The girl seemed very well-informed on the subject. She almost asked why, but then she remembered how desperately Ruby had wanted a cure for her supposed insomnia. When she still believed her semblance to simply be the lack of a need for sleep, the idea of an inhibitor in the shape of a necklace or bracelet had probably been very appealing.

"If this kind of thing exists," said Ruby, "then why doesn't everyone know about it? Why don't all police officers have them?"

"Pyrrha told me the tech is dangerous," Jaune explained. "I don't know how it works; I just know that it _does_. The guy who invented this—the guy who set this whole place up—he doesn't want anyone else to know how to make it, because the wrong kind of people can figure out how to make a lot scarier things from it."

"Like what?" Weiss asked.

"I don't know," said Jaune. "Nothing good."

"Like . . . weapons that only work on paragons— _mass_ weapons?" said Ruby.

"Maybe," said Jaune. "I don't know."

"What's to stop people you use these on from reverse-engineering?" said Weiss. "Do you somehow get them back after their powers have been inhibited?"

"No," said Jaune. "It's useless after it's been used—that's what Pyrrha said. I think it's mostly in the liquid. Again, don't ask me how it works. The guy who made it had to have known what he was doing."

"Who _is_ this person?" Weiss asked.

Jaune shrugged. "Pyrrha just said she met him while she was traveling abroad. I don't think he lives in Remnant. I didn't ask too much about him."

" _What?_ " Ruby gaped at him. "How could you _not_ ask about probably one of the most brilliant engineers alive?"

"I don't know. I guess I never got around to it. There were cooler things to ask about."

Ruby continued to stare at him as if she physically couldn't understand how he could have said the words he had. Meanwhile, Weiss picked up the small inhibitor, careful not to touch the tips of the needles.

"Be careful!" Jaune said.

"I _know_ ," Weiss snapped. "I just had another question—why did you call _this_ our 'only hope'?"

"It can disable Neo's speed, which is the main thing stopping Torchwick from being arrested," he answered.

"Yes, but _how_ do you expect to be able to get this thing on her? The same issue Ruby brought up earlier still applies. Unless your suit can make you as fast as this woman, you'll never be able to touch her, let alone prick her with this."

"I'll have to try to catch her by surprise. And if that fails . . . The armor's tough enough. Maybe I can tire her out."

"And if she kills you?"

He hesitated. "Then I'll die."

There was a strange look in his eyes as he said it, one that Weiss didn't immediately understand. It made her suspicious, but before she got a chance to question it, Ruby spoke up.

"I'll do it," said the girl.

"What?" Weiss and Jaune said simultaneously, staring at her.

"I said _I'll_ do it," Ruby repeated. She stood, then— _whoosh_. She was suddenly on the other side of the room. "You can't outrun instant."

"No way," said Jaune.

"Are out of your mind?" Weiss exclaimed.

"And by the way, since when was _that_ a thing?" Jaune asked, gesturing at Ruby.

"She discovered it at Junior's," Weiss said impatiently, "but _don't_ change the subject. Ruby Rose, you are _not_ going anywhere near that woman!"

"I'm the only one who can!" said Ruby. "I'm not going to be able to go out and do it _tomorrow_ , obviously, but my semblance is the only thing that stands a chance at getting Neo out of the picture long enough to get to Torchwick."

"That—" Weiss began.

"Torchwick _needs_ to be stopped!" Ruby asserted with more conviction than Weiss had ever seen from her. "He's out there robbing banks and killing people, just like he did to Bole . . ." She trailed off, getting a far off look in her eye. "Bole Maze."

"Huh?" said Jaune.

"They never found out how he died, did they?" Ruby asked.

"I've not heard anything," Weiss said, not sure where she was going with this.

"It had to be Neo," Ruby realized. "It _had_ to have been her that broke in and killed him."

Weiss frowned. "That _would_ make sense. I did wonder why he didn't just pay another prisoner to do it—it would've averted a lot of suspicion. But if he could just send _her_ in, it'd save him the money."

"Exactly. So even if we do manage to take down Torchwick, Neo can easily just break him out."

"She'll be in prison, too," said Jaune. " _If_ we can get that inhibitor on her. It's both of them or neither of them."

"But . . ." said Ruby. "Does she really deserve that?"

" _What?_ " said Weiss.

"I mean, she was taken as a kid!" said Ruby. "She was conditioned and maybe tortured to be a mindless soldier. Doesn't that make her another victim?"

"Someone else turning her into what she is doesn't absolve the things she's done," said Jaune. "The fact is, she's one of the most dangerous people alive and needs to be locked away. We can't do anything to undo what was done to her."

Ruby looked troubled. She stared at the ground, thinking quietly to herself. Weiss could see the gears turning in her head, and realized the idea she was about to come up with before she even said it.

"Can't we?" Ruby looked up and locked eyes with Weiss.

"What?" said Jaune.

"How does your semblance work, exactly?" she asked. "If you could get close to her, could you heal the damage that's been done?"

Weiss was trapped. She failed to think of a way away from this subject, as she didn't want to lie. She sighed, resigned, and said, "It's possible—maybe even probable."

"Really?" Ruby said excitedly.

"My mother—I inherited my semblance from her—she once helped a boy who'd been taken in by a cult. They'd brainwashed him and ingrained various crazy ideas and beliefs into his head that he wasn't able to shake after he was rescued. My mother was able to use her semblance to clear his head of them. If Neo's condition is similar, I could _theoretically_ heal her, as well as erase any loyalty to Torchwick that was forced upon her. But—"

" _See?_ " Ruby said. "We're the _only_ ones who can stop Torchwick! Jaune has the tech and the experience—"

"Not much, really," Jaune inserted.

"—I have a semblance that can counter Neo's, and you, Weiss, can free her mind!"

Weiss sat there for a moment, unsure of what to say. "This is insane. Jaune, tell her how insane she's being!"

But, somehow, Jaune didn't immediately jump to side with her. Instead, he said, "She's right."

" _Excuse me?_ " She shot to her feet.

Jaune flinched. "Look, you don't have a lot of options. You're both in the crosshairs of the most dangerous criminal in Vale. It's not safe for you to leave this place until he's out of the picture. You can go back to living your life as normal, praying you're not kidnapped and murdered; you can live down here for who knows how long, hoping that someone else will do what only _we_ stand a chance at doing; or you can take the matter into your own hands."

"Wait, we're not allowed to _leave_?" said Weiss.

"Um, yeah . . . I'm with her on that," Ruby said with a tone of uncertainty. "I have class in like—" she checked her scroll "—an hour."

"And I have contracts," said Weiss. "An apartment, bills to pay."

"None of that will matter if you're dead," said Jaune. "There's everything you need to survive down here until this is all over."

Weiss took a desperate moment to think, her head spinning. Her sister could protect her, if she moved back to Atlas, which she did _not_ want to do. Winter could convince General Ironwood to bring the military down to Vale to deal with the situation. With enough force, they could likely stop Neo—though not without killing her and losing soldiers in the process. And that was if they even got the chance to face her; a show of power like that would only send Torchwick deep into hiding. There really weren't many great options.

"But what about my grades?" Ruby asked. "I can't just take time off school. I'm supposed to graduate next semester!"

"It won't—" Jaune began.

"Yeah, yeah, it won't matter if I'm dead," Ruby brushed him off. "But Torchwick doesn't know where we are right now, so he won't be able to follow me. And he won't try and do anything when there are witnesses around, right? I could just take the sewer back here afterward to minimize the risk."

Jaune thought about it. "Fine. But you're sending me your schedule so I can walk you between classes. Torchwick doesn't know about me still."

Ruby glanced at the armor. "Are you going to be able to have that with you?"

Jaune looked miffed. "What, you don't think I can protect you without it?"

"That's not what I meant, but . . . Well, it's the _Protector's_ armor," Ruby said.

Jaune scowled, but eventually gave in. "It takes time to set it up, but it can shrink down into a box for carrying around in public. It's a lot quicker to put on that way, too."

"Really? Can I see?"

"Not right now."

Ruby pouted. "Fine. It's a deal, then, so long as I don't miss my classes."

"Hello?" Weiss said, calling attention to herself. "What about me?"

"You'll stay here," said Ruby.

"What, that's it? I have a life, too!" Weiss protested. "If I don't do my contracts, I won't be able to pay my bills, I'll lose my apartment, and my credit will suffer."

"I can't be in two places at once," said Jaune. "I don't know what to tell you."

Weiss bit her tongue. "Torchwick doesn't even know who I am. He said he only found me because I met up with Ruby."

"Do you really want to stake your life on that?" Jaune asked.

She glowered, but couldn't come up with another argument. She wasn't going to outwardly admit it, but they were right. He'd seen her face, and she was a Schnee. Even with her dyed hair, it'd be easy for him to recognize her from a family portrait.

"It's just for a little while," Ruby assured her. "Until we can train and prepare enough to stop Torchwick."

"Now hold on. I never agreed to that!"

"Well, Jaune and I did. Right Jaune?"

It took him a second to realize she'd asked him a question. "Hm? Oh, yeah. Right." His voice betrayed a hint of uncertainty.

Ruby walked back to the center of the room to stand across the table from Weiss, making eye contact. "Look. We're not going to force you to join us. But I think our chances would be a lot better if you decided to. If we succeed without you, Neo will join Torchwick in prison with her mind still in ruins. But if we succeed _with_ you, you might just be able to save her soul."

"What do you want from me?" Weiss asked, frustrated. "I'm not a vigilante!"

"You could be," Ruby said with all the seriousness in the world. "You _chose_ to help people for a living, and you charge a really reasonable rate for it—even though it's something that you're the only person alive who can do. And you chose to help me find my mom's killer when you barely even knew me. You can be a hero."

Weiss sank back into her chair and buried her face in her hands. Of all the crazy things she'd heard that morning, this topped them all. Weiss, a vigilante. Ridiculous. And Ruby said that without even knowing what Weiss's semblance had done to Torchwick the previous night—that it might have evolved to have offensive capabilities.

But the girl's words had somehow resonated with her, and she almost felt . . . encouraged. She looked up, which was a mistake. She couldn't fight Ruby's pleading eyes.

"I . . ." Weiss bit her lip. "I need some time to think about it."

Ruby beamed.

"Well, you've got plenty," said Jaune, "because we still have no idea where to even find Torchwick."

"You could still help out with that, no matter what you decide," Ruby said to Weiss. "There's no risk in surfing the web."

"I suppose," Weiss conceded. "I can look through the files Neptune sent me on Torchwick while you two are off furthering your education."

Ruby frowned. "Neptune?"

"Yes."

"I didn't realize you two were in contact."

"We're not. He sent the email unprompted."

"Oh." Ruby was quiet a moment, then put on a smile and said, "Well, it's official, then—the investigation is back on!"


	13. V1C13: Day One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my beta readers on FF.net: Bardothren, I Write Big, and 0neWhoWanders. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.

Now that Weiss had taken the opportunity to properly go over the files Neptune had sent her, she concluded that almost all of the information was redundant. Most of it she already knew from her and Ruby's time spent researching Torchwick on their own. Some of it gave a little more insight into the criminal's past, but nothing pertinent or useful. There _was_ a rather handy list of locations Torchwick has robbed before, which could be analyzed for patterns, but it was nothing Weiss couldn't have compiled herself.

Out of everything contained in the folder, there was one thing that turned out to be actually enlightening. After Torchwick started gaining notoriety, a few images of him began to surface. He was caught walking down the street in old CCTV footage; random people recognized him in the background of personal photos and videos; and one drone enthusiast out in the country managed to accidentally snag a high-definition shot of him exiting a building labeled "Brunswick Farms". There were only a spare few photos and none caught Torchwick anywhere of note or doing anything that wasn't innocuous, which made them useless—except for the last one, that is.

Weiss might have missed its significance had she not been confined alone in a space with so little to do for such a long time. Twice she'd looked at the image without realizing what it could possibly mean. The drone pilot claimed the picture had been taken three years ago just outside Vacuo. At least five years ago, prior to his supposed "final" heist in that same city, Torchwick had shot a man in what looked like a stable. If it was the same location, two years apart, then perhaps he owned Brunswick Farms as some sort of laundering scheme. Giving it a name similar to his own sounded just like the sort of tongue-in-cheek "hide in plain sight" thing he would do.

Weiss wasn't the first one to come up with this theory. A small handful of internet sleuths had jumped on this and done all the digging they could. They'd managed to gather a bit of evidence to back it up, the simplest being the massive scarcity of information available on the business, as well as its suspicious drop in activity around the same time that Torchwick went public in Vale. Unfortunately, Vacuo's police department claimed there wasn't enough substantial proof to spend resources investigating it, what with their crime rates keeping them so busy that vigilantism is actually _encouraged_ there. Crime bosses only active in cities a hundred miles away also weren't exactly their primary concern. Vale's police didn't have the jurisdiction to look into Brunswick Farms, and, for reasons beyond Weiss, the hunt for Torchwick had still yet to become a federal matter. So, at present, a potentially valuable lead was being left out to dry.

Assuming that Brunswick Farms _was_ a money laundering business owned by Torchwick, it was still unclear how knowing that was helpful. It was located too far away for it to be where he was currently hiding out or storing the spoils of his robberies. Perhaps he could be using the branding to disguise trucks used for smuggling contraband. But Weiss didn't have all that much time to ponder it before Ruby and Jaune returned.

She was sitting in a chair she'd moved from the kitchen to the computer in the main room when she heard the trapdoor open behind her. Jaune descended the stairs first, dressed normally and carrying a very heavy-looking cardboard box in his arms that was large enough to block his entire torso and the lower half of his face from view. He dropped it off by the naked mannequin that had been wearing the Protector's armor just that morning.

Ruby approached Weiss, staring at the monitors. "What'd you find?"

"Ruby, you reek!" Weiss pinched her nose and leaned away from her. "Do you have to stand so close?"

"Oh!" Ruby backed up and scratched her head sheepishly. "Heh, sorry. Sewer travel. So . . . what'd you find?"

Weiss could still smell her, but it was more bearable now. She gestured toward the middlemost monitor, then explained what she'd uncovered.

"Hm," said Ruby. "You really think this photo could be the same place you saw in Torchwick's mind?"

"It's just a guess," said Weiss, "but it's possible."

"So, what does this mean?"

"Nothing, yet," said Jaune, who emanated an equally foul odor. "But it's more than we knew before. It might lead to something."

"Or it could lead nowhere," Weiss pointed out.

"You don't have to be such a downer," said Ruby.

"I'm just being realistic," said Weiss. "Now, will one of you two _please_ go shower already?"

"Fine. But give yourself some credit. This will be important—I can feel it." Ruby went to the bathroom, leaving Weiss and Jaune alone.

"I'm actually about to head out again," said the latter.

"Where are you going?" Weiss asked, slightly accusatory. She didn't find it fair that _he_ was allowed to come and go as he pleased while she was stuck down here.

"To pick up a few things," he answered. "I can swing by your place and grab anything you need, if you want me to. I've already got Ruby's list."

"Oh," she said, caught off guard. Her tone softened. "Well, yes, that'd be wonderful. Let me get my keys."

Jaune nodded. Weiss started toward the living quarters, then stopped when a thought came to her. She pulled out her scroll and set it to add a new contact before handing the device to Jaune. He stared at the screen for a moment, then took it. Weiss left him alone while he began to type in his information. After saving her life three times over, this was the least he'd earned.

She found her keychain on top of the trunk she'd claimed for herself, the only contents contained within being the filthy clothes she'd worn the day before. When she returned, she held out the keys to exchange for her scroll, but then immediately drew them back in toward herself, hesitant.

"What is it?" Jaune asked.

"Why me?" Weiss said, finally getting the question off her chest.

"What?"

"Ruby I get—she's your classmate and your friend. But why _me_? Why'd you reveal all of this—" she gestured vaguely around the safe house "—to someone you don't even know? Especially after what happened during our appointment?"

Jaune gave her a strange look, then said, "Ruby trusts you."

Weiss blinked. "That's it?"

"Well, yeah. What more do I need?"

Weiss stared at the closed bathroom door for a few moments, then looked back at Jaune. He extended her scroll out further toward her. She took it and handed him her keys, then said, "I'll message you my address and a list of the things I need."

"Right," he said, pocketing the keychain. "I'll be back in a couple of hours."

Weiss tried to remember if she'd ever seen him smile—if she had, the memory wasn't coming to mind. It was fascinating to see how differently two people processed death two years later. Ruby buried her grief and found a way to still be bright, bubbly, and happy, despite the darkness she kept hidden. Jaune, on the other hand, let _his_ grief consume him—not trying to disguise how broken he felt except for when Ruby was around, and even then just barely.

The man turned and started toward the stairs, but paused when Weiss called out to him.

"Jaune," she said. "I can try again, you know—I can still cure you . . . Free of charge, of course."

He turned around to face her, taking a few seconds to respond. "Thanks, but . . . I don't know. I don't think I'm ready for that anymore. Pyrrha—she . . ." He swallowed. "She always faced her problems head-on. She never would have taken the easy way out."

"Would she really want you to continue to suffer when you really needn't to?"

A conflicted look passed over his face. Silence fell. For a second, his eyes met Weiss's, but he couldn't seem to come up with something to say. So he turned and left.

Weiss sat down and rested her head in her hand, her elbow on the computer desk. Humans had a real talent for needlessly punishing themselves. It was something that she herself had struggled with at several points throughout her life. You get so wrapped up in your own misery that you start to believe that you deserve it. So you just learn to live with it, ignoring the solution right in front of you.

She had to wonder about exactly what the nature of Jaune's relationship with Pyrrha was. He had to have really loved her for her death to still be affecting him this way. The question was whether or not that love was platonic. If not, had the late hero reciprocated those feelings? Had either of the two acted on them?

Weiss scolded herself. Here she was postulating other people's romances like some sort of teenage gossip. All that mattered was that Jaune had lost someone very dear to him, and he was hurting because of it. Those other details were unimportant. Her brainpower was better spent on other matters.

That said, Weiss didn't accomplish much of anything by the time Ruby emerged from the bathroom with damp hair and a fresh set of clothes. She'd just continued to stare at the search results for "Brunswick Farms" as the minutes ticked by, not sure where to go from there. The goal was to find Torchwick, and she'd come no closer to it in the hours she'd spent trying. This indefinite isolation was going to be pure torture if they didn't manage to find any sort of lead soon.

"Hey, Weiss?" Ruby walked up to her, for some reason looking apprehensive.

"Yes, Ruby?" said Weiss.

"Could . . . could you do me a favor?" Ruby held up her scroll, and Weiss gave a curious look at it.

"It depends on the favor."

"I need you to call Blake," Ruby blurted out. She continued on before Weiss got a chance to state how offended she was that Ruby would even ask such a thing of her. "Torchwick knows where I live, and he knows Yang's my sister. I think she'd be a lot safer staying with Blake until we can get this whole thing sorted out, but I still can't tell her about any of this because she hates vigilantes and she'd never approve."

"Wait, _what_?" Weiss said, taken aback.

"So I considered asking Blake to ask Yang to stay with her for a while," Ruby continued as if there'd been no interruption, "but it'd seem a lot more important coming from you."

"Did you just say your sister _hates_ vigilantes?"

"So, call Blake?" Ruby held out her scroll. "For me?"

"Ruby . . ." Weiss said dangerously.

"Please? I'm not asking you to make up with her or anything."

Weiss attempted to resist those pleading silver eyes, but only lasted five seconds. "Fine." She snatched the scroll out of her hand. "But _don't_ think we're not coming back to this."

Ruby beamed.

Weiss looked down at the scroll and pulled up Ruby's contacts, finding Blake's name written above an unfamiliar number. She tapped on it, then hovered her thumb over the call button. Seconds passed.

"You alright?" Ruby said.

"No, I'm not alright!" Weiss snapped. "What am I supposed to say? 'Hey, Blake. I know we hate each other right now, but I really need your girlfriend to move in with you.' Do you honestly think she's just going to go along with that?"

"Just tell her how important it is and try not to yell at her. Let her know that it's coming from me if you have to."

Weiss bit her tongue and contemplated for a few moments. Then she stared back down at the big green button, took a deep breath, and pushed it. It began to ring as Weiss set it to speaker mode. She barely got a chance to hope it'd go to voicemail before the call was answered.

"Ruby?" came Blake's voice. "Is everything okay?"

"Blake," Weiss said, more curtly than she'd intended.

"Weiss?" She sounded confused. "What's going on?"

Weiss let the silence drag on for a moment, then sighed. She spoke calmly, keeping her voice perfectly civil. "I have something important I need to ask of you on Ruby's behalf."

"Is that why you're using her scroll?"

"Obviously."

There was a pause. "Well, what is it then?"

"We need you to convince Yang to move in with you for a little while."

There was an even longer pause. "What?"

"I said—" Weiss started.

"I heard you. _Why_?"

"Look, you know I wouldn't be talking to you right now if this wasn't important."

"If you're going to ask something like that of me, then you're going to need to give me a reason. Yang and I aren't anywhere near that stage yet. I haven't even told her that I love—" Blake cut herself short, having probably said more than she'd intended.

Ruby gasped, her eyes wide. " _Do_ you?"

"Wha—? Ruby, you're _there_?" Blake said, sounding surprised. "Then why did—?"

"That's irrelevant," Weiss interrupted, having to keep the annoyance out of her voice. Evidently, Ruby had forgotten the entire point of making Weiss do this. "Will you do it or not?"

"Not unless you explain _why_ ," said Blake.

"We _can't_ do that," Ruby said. "I promise I'll tell you both eventually, but for now, I just need you to trust us."

"I trust _you_ , Ruby. But Weiss . . ."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Weiss asked defensively.

"Well, we're not exactly caught up," said Blake. "We aren't the same people we were four years ago. You've got that scar now, and your hair is a different color. We can't just go back to the way things were."

"Who says I even want that? You didn't trust me then, either, when I _warned_ you about Adam. Look where that got you."

"Are you saying if I don't trust you now, the consequences will be just as bad?"

"Of _course_ she isn't saying that," Ruby interjected. "This is nothing like that—nothing that serious. But it _is_ important, though."

"I should hope not," Blake said. "Because you know I'd have to arrest you if you were up to anything illegal."

"Of _course_ you would," Ruby said slyly with a wink.

"You know she can't see that, right?" said Weiss.

"Did she just wink?" Blake asked.

"No!" Ruby blushed.

"Yes," Weiss said at the same time.

Blake chuckled, then fell silent. Ruby glared at Weiss, who might've smirked had it been anyone else on the other end of the line. Several seconds of contemplation passed before Blake said in a defeated voice, "How long is 'a little while'?"

"We don't know," said Weiss. "It's impossible to say."

"A couple weeks?" Ruby hazarded. "Maybe more."

Weiss didn't know how to feel about that guess. On the one hand, it was short enough that Weiss's temporary lack of income wouldn't disrupt her life, and she could theoretically return to living a normal life sooner than expected. On the other, it didn't seem like nearly enough time to prepare for what Ruby and Jaune intended to do—if they could even learn the information they needed that quickly.

"And you'll explain what this is all about after?" said Blake.

"Promise," said Ruby.

Blake sighed. "Alright. But if Yang says no—"

Ruby pumped her fist in the air. "Yes! Thank you! She won't say no. Oh, and don't tell her about this, obviously. Make it sound like it was your idea."

"Right. But you _know_ how much she hates people keeping secrets from her."

Ruby shifted guiltily. "Yeah . . . But she'll understand."

If Blake believed that, she was the only one. Weiss saw no positive outcome that could follow Ruby's sister learning the truth. Right now, they were just delaying the inevitable.

"I hope you're right," said Blake. "Is that all, then?"

Ruby gave Weiss a meaningful look, but Weiss just crossed her arms and kept her lips pressed together in quiet defiance. Blake still hadn't attempted an apology, so Weiss had nothing more to say to her.

"That's all," Ruby said sadly.

"Okay. Bye, Ruby."

Bye, _Ruby_ —no one else. Weiss was too affronted to hold her tongue. Before Blake could hang up, Weiss said abruptly, "Wait."

There was a delay in Blake's response. "Yes?"

Weiss bit her lip, uncertain. She'd spoken without knowing what she'd say. Though she was tempted, she decided against harsh words and biting insults—she realized that honesty would cut far deeper.

"I just want you to know," said Weiss, "that despite our differences, you were all I had. You left me without a goodbye, and I can't believe you were just about to do it again."

Blake was silent. Weiss liked to imagine it was due to shame, but she wouldn't know for sure. She ended the call before Blake could come up with a response. A resonating silence hung over the room, broken only by a shaky breath from Weiss as she handed the scroll back to Ruby. Her heart was beating faster and she wasn't sure how to feel. She was satisfied with what she'd said, but at the same time, an intrusive sadness lingered over her.

"You okay?" Ruby asked.

"I'm fine," Weiss said shortly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

Ruby frowned. She clearly had more she wanted to say, but respected Weiss's answer. She tucked her scroll into her pocket before turning and walking away, pausing to tell Weiss, "Thank you. I feel a lot better with Torchwick not knowing where Yang sleeps."

Weiss just gave her half a smile.

* * *

That night, Weiss was able to slide underneath her favorite duvet and rest her head on her own, carefully selected pillow while wearing her usual nightgown, thanks to Jaune having brought them all back from her apartment along with her mail and a handful of other things. The blanket didn't fit the tiny mattress she was forced to sleep on, but it'd still allow for a much more comfortable night's rest and give the illusion that nothing had changed. The default bedding wasn't terrible, but it hadn't felt like home; in truth, that was something she'd been struggling with ever since she first moved to Vale. This city still felt so foreign to her—this safehouse even more so. But at least she wasn't alone.

"Hey, Weiss?"

Weiss, irritated, opened her eyes and tilted her head to see Ruby staring down at her from the top bunk on the opposite wall. The girl had intentionally tired herself out using her semblance a few minutes ago. She and Weiss were the only two in the room, as Jaune had still yet to retire for the night.

" _Yes_ , Ruby?" said Weiss.

"I've been thinking . . ." the girl was hesitant. "There's something I've been wanting to ask."

"Can't it wait until morning?"

"No. I've waited long enough already."

Weiss sighed. "Fine. What is it?" Then, after ten seconds of silence, "If you're going to say it, then say it."

"It's just . . ." Ruby continued to delay, then finally brought herself to voice what was on her mind. "What if it's Salem?"

Weiss didn't understand the question. "What if _what's_ Salem?"

"Well . . . the person we've been trying to find—Torchwick's boss, the woman from Maze's memory . . . My mom's killer."

Weiss pushed herself into a sitting position. "Ruby, are you feeling alright?"

"Huh?" Ruby's brow crinkled. "I feel fine."

"Are you certain you don't have a concussion or anything?"

"Wha—? No, I'm being serious! What if it's Salem?"

"Ruby," Weiss said slowly. "Salem is dead."

"I know that! Or at least we all _think_ we do. I mean, her hair was blonde, just like the killer's. She might've faked her death, somehow."

"That's impossible. Ruby, there is video footage of her corpse being pulled from the wreckage. Multiple news helicopters recorded the exact moment."

"I know, I know," Ruby said. Even she seemed doubtful about her theory, but she wasn't quite ready to give up on it. "But she could've had some kind of semblance that let her _appear_ dead, or something. And I know her semblance was metal control, but it could have changed to something completely different. That's happened before, right?"

"Yes, _extremely_ rarely. You'd have better odds of winning the lottery."

Ruby had a strange look, as if she somehow wasn't dissuaded by those odds.

"It's _not_ Salem, Ruby," Weiss affirmed.

A silence passed, then Ruby said, "You're right. I knew it was stupid. I just . . . couldn't stop thinking about it."

Weiss eyed her suspiciously. "Why do you almost sound disappointed? Do you _want_ Pyrrha's sacrifice to have been in vain?"

Ruby looked offended. "Of course not! How could . . .? I just . . ." She let out a defeated sigh. "I don't like that we _still_ don't have any idea who it really is. We've been at this for so long, now."

A pang of guilt struck Weiss. She shouldn't have said that. Of _course_ Ruby didn't want Salem to still be alive; she just wanted an easy solution to a complicated problem. With so little information, it made sense for her to latch on to the first theory that might grant her some reprieve from her desperate thirst for answers, no matter how outlandish it was.

"I'm sorry," Weiss said.

"It's okay," said Ruby.

Weiss watched her friend's head disappear back over the edge of the bunk bed to rest atop her pillow. After a few moments, she laid back down herself and let her eyes slide shut, believing the conversation to be over. But then a couple minutes passed, and Ruby spoke again.

"I'm sorry too," she said.

Weiss looked over, but Ruby had evidently been talking to the ceiling. "Sorry about what?"

"Everything." Ruby shifted and peered down at her once more. "It's my fault we're in this mess—that Junior nearly kidnapped us, that Torchwick knew where to find us, that we have to live down here now. You don't deserve any of this. If you'd never met me, you wouldn't be going through it all."

Weiss didn't know how to respond right away. She looked into those silver eyes and saw genuine remorse. While a part of her wanted to stay mad at Ruby, the rest was just glad to finally hear her admit her mistakes. She didn't _like_ being angry at her—the dolt just kept giving her so many reasons to be.

"Thank you for saying that," Weiss said. "But I don't regret meeting you, Ruby. It's not like you forced me into this. If I remember correctly, I _volunteered_ to help you find your mother's killer. I could have backed out at any time—and when I eventually tried to, it's not like I wanted nothing to do with you anymore. Just _please_ stop making so many reckless decisions. And _don't_ keep any more pertinent information from me—like your sister hating vigilantes. _Why_ am I only just now learning about that?"

Ruby gave a guilty smile. "I, uh . . . didn't think it mattered?"

" _What?_ " Weiss quickly sat up, dumbfounded.

"I mean, in _hindsight_ . . ."

"Ruby, you're literally planning on _becoming_ a vigilante—which I still think is an absurd idea, by the way. We're currently living in a vigilante's hideout. How could you _possibly_ think that that wasn't worth mentioning?"

"Well she's not _your_ sister," Ruby argued.

Weiss's eyes narrowed.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I just didn't think of it. There were other things on my mind—other things to talk about."

Weiss sighed. "Fine. Whatever. But now that we're on the topic, would you care to explain it? Why would your sister _hate_ vigilantes? What about Pyrrha?"

"Well, Yang never hated _her_ , but she wasn't a fan of her, either—she obviously respects her now, though. But she's been on that side of the debate for years. I don't know why, exactly, but it has something to do with her mom—her _birth_ mom."

"Was . . . her mother _killed_ by a vigilante, by any chance?"

"Hm? No, she's alive. But Yang doesn't like to talk about her—Dad doesn't, either. It's kind of a touchy subject."

"Oh." Weiss was silent for a moment. "How exactly do you expect her to react when she finds out about all this?"

A shadow passed over Ruby's face. "She'll understand."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yeah," Ruby said, sounding like she was also attempting to convince herself. "She'll be mad, but not for too long—I'm her little sister. We're doing what we _have_ to do, because no one else can. She'll realize that eventually."

"I hope you're right," Weiss said honestly.

Ruby smiled, but then her face grew serious again. "I know that I'm asking a lot of you. What we're planning is really risky, so I'll understand if you decide not to."

Weiss looked away. "Right."

The silence dragged on until Ruby finally returned to lying on her back and said, "G'night, Weiss."

Weiss lowered herself back onto her pillow, then said, "Good night, Ruby."


	14. V1C14: The Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my beta readers on FF.net: I Write Big, 0neWhoWanders, and Bardothren. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.
> 
> Apologies for the long delays between chapters lately. I've been struggling to find motivation recently, and the amount of words I write per day has been suffering accordingly. I'll try to see that the next one comes sooner than later, but I can't make any promises. But rest assured, I'm not giving up on this story—not even close. Progress may come slowly, but it will still come.

Weiss squared up, her fists raised in a defensive position and her feet carefully spaced apart. She circled her opponent, slowly, waiting for it to strike. Finally, the machine darted forward and threw a punch. Weiss moved her arms to block it, as she'd been taught, but it halted its attack at the last second. She didn't even see its other fist coming for her side. The blow was restrained—not powerful enough to do any damage, but it still hurt and sent her stumbling to the ground.

"End," said Jaune. The robot froze and returned to idling.

Weiss's nails dug into her palms as she lay there, propped up on one elbow. "What was _that_ about?" she demanded.

"You focused your defense on one attack, leaving yourself open to another," Jaune told her.

"You never told me to expect that!"

"That wasn't the point. You're supposed to be learning to keep your stance right and protect against a hit."

"I _am_ keeping my stance right," she said through gritted teeth. "If it hadn't—"

"If you had, you'd still be standing," he interrupted. "Sometimes you have to absorb a blow, but it shouldn't take you off your feet."

"I'm doing it exactly as you showed me!"

"You're starting off fine, but you lose your form when you start to circle. You have to focus on maintaining it."

"I'm _trying_!"

"You'll get it," Ruby encouraged from the sidelines. "Just keep practicing."

"Easy for you to say," Weiss muttered as she stood up and brushed herself off. Ruby had been progressing at an almost prodigious rate, though they'd only been training for a short while. It wouldn't take much longer for her to surpass Jaune. In his defense, paragons with active semblances have been shown to have faster muscle memory than most people, not that that was helping Weiss any. Ruby had also started with a few weeks of practice under her belt with her sister, someone with far more experience than Jaune.

"What's even the point of this?" Weiss asked, still angry. "Knowing how to block a punch isn't going to help against an attacker with a gun."

"You _asked_ to learn how to defend yourself," said Jaune. "You have to know the basics to get to the more advanced stuff, like stopping _that_ from happening again."

Weiss's fingers instinctively came up to touch the scar he had pointed to. He was right. She was being childish. She knew that, but was too frustrated to admit it. It wasn't like she'd expected to master hand-to-hand combat instantly, but after nearly three weeks, at least _some_ sign of progress was to be expected.

"Try watching Ruby for a bit," Jaune suggested. "Study how _she_ does it."

Weiss didn't respond right away. Her gaze lingered across the room, not focused on anything in particular. One of the monitors was visible from the corner of her eye—it displayed a message taking up the entire screen, reading, "22 Days Until Vytal Festival". She set her jaw and turned back toward the robot.

"No," she said. "I want to try again."

"Are you sure you don't want to take a break?" Ruby asked.

"I want to try again," Weiss repeated in a firm voice.

Hesitant, Jaune eventually gave in and said, "Repeat last action."

The machine returned to life and prepared to fight. It waited while Weiss carefully recreated her stance and readied her fists.

"Start," said Jaune. Both woman and robot began to move at the same time.

Twenty-two days. That's how long they had to stop Roman Torchwick.

The Vytal Festival is a week-long event held every two years by a different country, taking place in a rotating season. This year, it was being organized by Remnant during the fall. And Vale, being one of the largest and most diverse cities in the nation, got the honor of hosting the festivities. People from all over the world would be coming here to partake in activities, enjoy a myriad of different cuisines, and immerse themselves in numerous diverse cultures. Once upon a time, Weiss had been looking forward to it. Now she dreaded its arrival.

It all started about a week and a half ago, right after Torchwick's latest robbery—this time, he'd mixed things up and hit a museum, snagging a handful of valuable paintings. More people started to ask why someone this dangerous was still only being pursued by local law enforcement. Federal Investigations responded by saying if Torchwick wasn't apprehended by October 25th, then they'd step in and take over. The last day of the Vytal Festival was October 24th.

The fact that they were stalling at all was fishy—that they were stalling until that particular day was downright suspicious. Security for the festival was being handled by the military, so it wasn't like the event was keeping them busy until after it was over. In fairness, there could be any number of classified reasons behind that decision. But, to be safe, Weiss opted to do some digging. The first place she looked was on the Vytal Festival's website, where she eventually found a list of vendors, suppliers, and other associated businesses. Buried within that extensive list was none other than one Brunswick Farms, who was supposedly supplying food.

To avoid jumping to any baseless conclusions, Jaune agreed to take a bus ride down to Vacuo to investigate—it'd been a task to convince Ruby to stay behind. He'd waited for nightfall and broke into the business's main building, which hadn't had a lot of security—or much of anything, for that matter. He'd found an office where he managed to steal some financial records that were very indicative of money laundering, as well as evidence that the owner—a man named Bartleby—did not exist.

There still wasn't enough to definitively name Torchwick as the true owner of Brunswick Farms, but with the current stakes, they had no choice but to work off of the assumption that he was. The fact of the matter was that an illegal business had clearance to operate behind the scenes at an international gathering of hundreds of thousands of people. Worst-case scenario, they exploit that by smuggling in bombs and/or any number of other weapons. None of the possibilities were desirable. And if Weiss's fears were true, Torchwick or his boss had some manner of influence within Federal Investigations, who refused to start chasing him until after the festival was over. So he needed to be brought down before it began.

"I know, I know!" Weiss yelled from the floor. She had failed once again, but didn't want to hear her mistakes repeated.

"End," Jaune said to the robot. He then tried to give Weiss a hand up, but she swatted it away.

"I'm done for today," she said as she got to her feet on her own.

"Watch Ruby," Jaune suggested again. "She—"

"I said I'm _done_." Weiss stormed off and entered the living quarters, slamming the door behind her—or at least she tried to, but the door frame was padded, which muffled the effect. She sat down on the edge of her bed and took several moments to calm herself, then began to take off her hand wraps. She was halfway through the first one when she heard the door open and close again.

"I'm not in the mood, Ruby," Weiss said without looking up.

"I know how you feel, you know," Ruby said.

"You couldn't possibly."

" _Yes_ , I do. I went through the same thing when I was just a girl."

Weiss paused and looked up at her—Ruby had seated herself on the bed opposite. Weiss said nothing.

"Yang's only the best fighter I know because she grew up learning it all from our dad," said Ruby. "He spent years traveling around the world, learning different styles of martial arts from different teachers before he met my mom and settled down. Yang grew up learning from him, and she mastered everything he taught her—Dad says she's better than him, now. He tried teaching me, too, but I never caught on. It was frustrating seeing how much better Yang was than me, so I eventually gave up. That was when I still thought it was just a hobby. I think the only reason I'm doing better now is because I realize how important it is—and I guess being older helps, too."

"Not for everyone, it would seem," Weiss said bitterly. "I just don't understand it. This comes so easily with my semblance."

Ruby frowned. "Your semblance?"

"Never mind," Weiss said quickly, her cheeks feeling warm. "Forget I said anything."

"What does your semblance have to do with fighting? I thought you just cured people."

Weiss sighed and mentally scolded herself. "Promise not to ridicule me."

"Why would I ridicule you?"

" _Promise_ ," Weiss ordered.

"Okay, I promise."

Weiss steeled herself, not used to willingly giving up embarrassing secrets. "My semblance isn't as simple as it seems. It's more . . . involved."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't just touch someone and instantly rid them of their ailments. I enter a mental landscape, and I have to fight the manifestations of whatever mental affliction or afflictions the person has."

"Really? Like with your fists? What do they look like?"

"With a sword. And they . . . they look like creatures called Grimm." Her blush deepened.

"Grimm?" Ruby looked momentarily puzzled, but then her eyes lit up. "Oh, like from _Warriors of Grimm_?"

"You've seen it?"

"I've seen every show. Well, not literally, but I've had a _lot_ more free time to kill than most people."

"Oh, right," said Weiss. The fact that Ruby had chosen to spend her extra eight hours a day watching TV rather than doing anything productive didn't surprise her. Still, she felt relieved to hear that her friend liked the show, too.

"I didn't think _you'd_ watch a show like that," said Ruby. "I figured you grew up watching operas and plays and other fancy pantsy things."

"If by 'fancy pantsy' you mean 'dignified', I _did_. But those aren't the _only_ things I did—I took other liberties when I could, only because I knew my father wouldn't approve."

Ruby gave a sly smile. "Really? No other reason? Not because it was _fun_?"

Weiss glared. "You _promised_ not to ridicule me."

"I'm not! I'm really happy right now—it's like I'm seeing a whole new side of you."

"I knew I shouldn't have told you this."

"Oh, come _on_. This is a good thing! This makes me like you _more_. You're not the easiest person to relate to, you know."

"Don't _you_ have a wealthy father as well?"

Ruby's eyes shifted. "Well, yeah— _now_. I didn't _grow up_ in high society. But you were telling me about your semblance. So you actually go _into_ people's minds and fight monsters from your favorite cartoon?"

Weiss eyed her dubiously, but consented to the change of subject nonetheless. "As ludicrous as it sounds, yes." She proceeded to describe the experience in detail, taking care not to miss the fact that none of it was actually real, despite it feeling very much so.

"That sounds like so much fun! You get to actually _be_ a Warrior of Grimm."

"It . . . _can_ be enjoyable at times," Weiss admitted, though that was a slight understatement. "But sometimes the ambiguity of it can be infuriating."

"For example?"

One immediately came to mind. Weiss bit her lip, feeling guilty over her own hypocrisy. She'd chastised Ruby for hiding her sister's views on vigilantism, but Weiss still hadn't told _her_ everything that had happened during that unfortunate cab ride. Now was as good a time as any, she supposed.

"Like when I used my semblance on Torchwick," she said. "I didn't just watch the two memories and leave. Something unprecedented happened— _two_ things unprecedented happened. There was a storm that destroyed my sword, and I was attacked by _him_ , except he didn't have a face."

"No face? Like no nose, no mouth, no nothing?"

"Yes. I believe it was his mind defending itself against me. I heard his voice, too—coming from the sky, not his . . . avatar, or whatever you want to call it. The thing is, that was the first time I've ever used my semblance on someone who didn't consent to it. So I don't know if my semblance evolved again, or if it was always like that."

"Well . . . does it really matter? It doesn't seem to make much of a difference either way."

"Of _course_ it matters! I need to know _everything_ about my semblance—I loathe not being able to fully understand it."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. That just seems like a pretty minor detail, to me."

Weiss rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't understand. _Your_ semblance is simple. You disappear from one place and appear in another, slightly tired. Because of the stupid way my subconscious processes _mine_ , it's riddled with enigmas. Like the fact that it can also now _hurt_ people instead of healing them, and I haven't the remotest clue as to what extent."

"Wait, what? Your semblance can _hurt_ people?"

Weiss looked at her, momentarily confused. She'd gotten so caught up in her own vexation that she'd forgotten to explain the most important part. She took a second to cool down, then told Ruby what had happened when she hit the faceless Torchwick.

"So, technically," said Ruby, "you can just touch someone and do damage to them?"

"That's what the evidence suggests," said Weiss.

Ruby appeared deep in thought. Weiss knew that look—she was coming up with a potentially reckless and dangerous idea again.

"It doesn't _mean_ anything, though," Weiss said with the hope of putting an end to Ruby's train of thought. "I don't know how much harm I can do to someone, and therefore I can never _use_ this new ability."

"But that's so powerful, though. It wouldn't even matter if you never learned to fight as good as Yang or Pyrrha—you could just go into someone's mind and do the fighting there."

"If I can't land a punch, how do you expect me to touch someone in order to use my semblance on them? But that's irrelevant, anyway. We're _not_ discussing this. I'm not out to cause permanent brain damage or possibly even _kill_ anyone—not even people like Torchwick."

"Yeah. No, you're right." Ruby looked disappointed. "But if you _could_ control it so all you do is put the baddies to sleep or something, that'd be _so_ handy. I could Blink us right on top of them and you could just instantly take them down. Or you could just sneak up behind them and avoid fighting entirely."

" _Why_ are you talking like this would be more than a one-time thing?" Weiss asked, alarmed. "I still haven't even agreed to try to heal Neo."

"I know _that_. I'm just . . . talking for fun, here. Like what if you could go invisible, like Blake? No one would see you coming, and they'd be asleep before they knew you were there. I don't think the tech exists to mimic Blake's semblance yet, though."

"Of _course_ it exists," Weiss said without thinking. "The STC patented it years ago. But that's beside the point—"

Ruby's eyes lit up. "Really? I've never heard about that."

"Obviously not. The STC didn't exactly shout about their contracts for the military."

"I didn't know the STC was developing for the military."

Weiss gave her a flat look that said, "Really?"

"Oh, right," Ruby said with a slight blush. "So how does it work? Obviously, it can't make you _completely_ invisible, right? It'd have to use some kind of really advanced reflective panels or something like that."

"I don't know. I wasn't as informed with the family business as you might think. And I don't have a clue how any of the technology works. I had access to the company database and heard things around the manor during breaks from school, but that's about it."

"Oh. Where would those prototypes be now that the STC is gone?"

"Why?" Weiss asked suspiciously.

"I'm just . . . curious."

Weiss had to consider whether she wanted to humor the question, then proceeded to wonder whether she even knew the answer. After the STC dissolved, the board members and shareholders who _hadn't_ been convicted for white-collar crimes had scrambled to scoop up as many assets as they could. But things got complicated with Weiss's father—the majority shareholder—being in prison, which resulted in a lot of the asset distribution getting stonewalled by pretty much everyone involved. That was still the case even a year later. As a result of that, a number of STC warehouses and laboratories remain filled with tech and resources that no one has legal access to. A fair amount of those are probably located in Vale, thanks to Weiss's father not hesitating to take advantage of the drop in real estate prices caused by Salem's assault. So, in reality, the tech Ruby was curious about could be stored in one of the several workerless STC warehouses located in . . . this very city.

Weiss abruptly stood, the gears in her head spinning. A thought had just occurred to her. An enlightening possibility if true, but a troubling one. No, _surely_ the government had already seized anything dangerous the STC had been working on. But what exactly qualified as dangerous?

"Weiss?" said Ruby, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"'My base of operations,'" Weiss quoted beneath her breath. "That confirms that he _has_ one main base of operations."

"Who, Torchwick?"

"The County Clerk's office had an STC security system, yet he was able to completely bypass it and erase well-protected data. He's always able to shut off the security cameras as soon as he's finished taunting them. If his targets also . . ."

"What are you talking about?" said Ruby, who sounded completely bemused, but Weiss ignored her.

"There's gotta be . . ." Weiss's momentum came to a halt. The STC database had been purged a while ago, and unfortunately, she only knew one person who might have saved the data she needed.

"Weiss," Ruby said. " _What_ is going on?"

Those piercing silver eyes shook Weiss out of her distraction. She blinked a few times, surprised to find her friend standing directly in front of her and gripping her shoulders, as if she were about to literally shake her.

"I . . ." Weiss bit her tongue. "I need to call my brother."

" _Huh?_ "

"I believe Torchwick could be hiding out in an abandoned STC facility," Weiss said as she took a step back from the girl, whose hands fell back down to her sides. "And I think Whitley is the only one who can confirm it."

"STC facility? That's . . . wait . . . what?" Ruby sounded even more confused, if that was possible.

Weiss grabbed her scroll off of the trunk where she'd left it, then set out of the room with a purposeful stride. She barely registered Ruby hot on her heels and Jaune running drills by himself in the corner. Her attention was on the computer on the back wall, her hands taking control of the keyboard and mouse before she'd even stopped walking.

"Form: optimal," the robot said behind her. "Speed: acceptable. Reaction time: needs improvement. Footwork: needs improvement. Suggested action: practice exercises 12b, 12c, 3c, and 3f."

"End," Jaune said as he approached the two women. "What's going on?"

"I . . . wish I could tell you," said Ruby. "Something big, I guess."

Weiss pulled up the list of Torchwick's past robberies on one monitor and a map service on another. She typed "STC" into it, but it only yielded a few locations within Vale. Her fist clenched. There were definitely more that weren't showing up, but her father likely hadn't registered them under the company name—probably for some clever legal loophole or tax evasion purposes. So that effectively ruled out the slim possibility that she might not have to hold a conversation with her estranged sibling after all. But if you can't avoid something, then delay it for as long as possible.

"I think Torchwick could be using STC technology in order to _bypass_ STC technology," Weiss explained. She began to type as she talked, trying to find info on the security of every location the crime boss had hit so far, starting with the most recent. "It would explain his unheard-of number of successful robberies. If my family's tech is the only thing protecting each of his targets, and he has a way to disable it, then there's no way he could ever be caught in the act."

"How would he even get something like that?" Jaune asked.

"He'd steal it, probably," said Ruby. "I mean, that's what he does best, isn't it?"

"His earliest robbery—bar the ones from Vacuo—took place _after_ the STC dissolved," said Weiss. "A lot of STC facilities have remained without workers since then, but they still haven't been emptied. Torchwick could have broken into one of them and gotten what he needed, and he might also have made a base out of it."

"Where's your proof?" said Jaune.

"I'm trying to find it."

"Hmm," Ruby pondered. "That . . . _would_ sort of make sense. I mean, it'd be a better place than any old abandoned building. That way, no one can just randomly stumble into it. And he'd have his own security system ready to go, if he's good enough to get past it himself to override it."

A few minutes later, Weiss's search wasn't panning out for her. She hadn't really expected it to. A part of her was _glad_ that it wasn't that easy to find what she was looking for—it meant it would be just as difficult for people like Torchwick. But it was still annoying. It would take some time and digging to confirm her theory, and probably wouldn't be possible without more classified intel.

Weiss stepped away from the computer and picked her scroll back up from the desk. The other two were still watching her expectantly. To not keep them waiting, she ripped the bandaid off and finally dialed her brother. The device began to ring. Her heart rate picked up as the seconds dragged by. Then, when she was convinced it'd go to voicemail, he answered.

"Sister," Whitley greeted, his voice the very definition of formality. "To what do I owe this surprise?"

"Hello, Whitley. I . . ." Weiss bit her tongue. "I need a favor."

There was a short silence, then a sigh. "Of course. What other reason could you have to contact your dear brother?"

"Don't pretend that _you_ haven't also been avoiding _me_."

"That's valid," he conceded. "So what's this favor you mean to ask of me, then? As fortune has it, I'm already back in Atlas."

Weiss hadn't expected that. "You are?"

"Indeed. Only temporarily, however. I'll be departing once more after the Vytal Festival."

"Can't be bothered to stick around for too long, I take it."

He hesitated. "We both have to adapt to the circumstances in our own ways."

Weiss didn't say anything right away. "Have you been to see Mother yet?"

"Of course. Why do you think I came to Atlas instead of directly to Vale?"

"How is she?"

His reply was delayed. "The same."

"Right." Weiss hadn't expected any other answer.

" _What's_ the favor?"

She swallowed and pushed the image of her mother's face out of her mind. "I need access to STC archives."

Weiss could almost see his brow raise ever so slightly, the rest of his expression remaining in a well-practiced poker face. "They've been expunged."

"That's why I'm calling you."

"You think that I have backups."

"Don't play games with me. We may never have been close, but I still _know_ you."

Whitley took his time deliberating his response. "Say I _did_ hypothetically have these documents—how do you plan to retrieve them from me? Last I heard, you were still living in Vale."

"Email?" Weiss suggested halfheartedly.

"Don't make me laugh."

"Look, I'm not a computer genius like you. Do an . . . encryption, or whatever." Weiss glared at Ruby's reaction to her ignorance.

"You disappoint me, dear Sister. Nevertheless, I am willing—under the assumption that this is a quid pro quo—to aide you."

"What do you want?"

"Nothing, at the moment. But should a need arise . . ."

"Fine, I get it. I'll owe you. So can you send me the files, then?"

"No. I can clone them onto an external hard drive, but you will need to collect it in-person."

"What? Why?"

"It's the only secure method. I will not send this data through the internet—this is non-negotiable."

"The company's dead, Whitley. What's the worst that could happen if someone else manages to get hold of this?"

"I don't know, but I don't care to find out. And _you_ need to cease thinking like that. Just because we've suffered a lot already doesn't mean they can't do worse to us still. Someone _attacked_ us. They got Father arrested, toppled the company, and tore our family apart."

"Yeah, I know who—Father."

"You misunderstand. I won't deny Father's crimes, but neither will I deny his cunning. The only conceivable way he could've been caught is if someone exposed him."

"He doesn't exactly have a shortage of enemies."

"Precisely. And I refuse to risk giving them any further opportunities to strike at our family name. So I'll say it once more—this data _will_ remain secure."

Weiss grew suspicious. "You almost sound like you're planning something."

"I've not questioned the motives behind your request—I'd like to ask that you return that courtesy."

She chewed the inside of her cheek. "Fine. But I can't leave Vale."

Jaune opened his mouth, but Weiss held up a finger to keep him quiet.

"My ticket to Vale is dated a week before the festival, if you can wait that long," said Whitley.

"I can't."

"That's unfortunate. I believe that puts us at something of an impasse."

"I can send someone else." Weiss looked at Jaune. "A friend."

He blinked, momentarily stunned by the label, before giving her a nod of assent.

"A friend, you say?" Whitley sounded doubtful. "I don't treasure the idea of handing this outside of the family."

Weiss huffed. "Look at Father, Whitley. He only ever cared about himself and how deep he could make his own pockets. Blood isn't a good way to measure trust."

"So how much do you place in this friend of yours, then?" Whitley asked after a silence.

"Enough. That drive is just as safe in his hands as it is in mine—safer, even."

"Fine. Inform me when he arrives in Atlas, and we can arrange a meeting."

"Okay."

"And don't think I'll be forgetting about that IOU."

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"Farewell, Sister."

"Whitley?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

After a pause, he hung up.

Progress was stunted without those files, which meant the end of the night couldn't come soon enough. Jaune agreed to catch the first plane to Atlas the following morning, Ruby generously paying for his ticket. He returned that same afternoon, having collected the hard drive without incident, and they were able to start the real work at last. There was a lot to sift through, so it still took a while.

The first thing they did was examine the inventories of every STC location in Vale, then deduced which of them were worth watching. Any number of things could have been left off the books, so it was impossible to decisively say whether each location had once held whatever it was that gave Torchwick his advantage. But there were plenty they were able to rule out, leaving a select handful for Jaune to place spy cameras around. Then it was just a matter of keeping an eye on the feed as they continued digging.

The following days provided a considerable contrast to the past month. Before, the hours went by slowly, spent grasping at straws and following loose leads, only occasionally coming across something valuable. Training had taken place every few days without a set schedule—Weiss only bothered when Jaune was around to help her, as she made little enough progress _with_ a human touch and knew soloing the machine would be a waste of time. Ruby put a lot of work into creating her "superhero suit", repurposing parts of Jaune's old armor with his permission. Recreation sometimes took the form of board games that Ruby had Jaune retrieve from her apartment. It was a good way to break up the long stretches of tedium, but Weiss mostly preferred reading ebooks on her scroll instead. Life had been boring, but at least it was peaceful. Following Weiss's call to her brother, the only applicable word was "frantic".

They began training daily. Free time was reduced to a minimum. Ruby stopped using her semblance altogether so that someone would be able to have their eyes on the cameras at all times, though she'd only chosen to sleep less than half the time already. The majority of their available minutes were dedicated to crunching away at trying to find the evidence they needed, always within sight of the monitors. All the while, the countdown kept getting smaller.

They were on the right track—they knew that. The data that Whitley provided contained enough to prove Weiss's hypothesis, but it'd taken a great effort to find it. In some way, shape, or form, Schnee technology was being used to protect every building that Torchwick had robbed in Vale. Only some had full, official STC security systems. Others used ones from different companies that incorporated STC components—that'd been the trickiest bit to uncover. The rest were protected by rather young companies invested in by former STC shareholders—the hard drive had been no help in revealing that part, but they still got there in the end.

So one thing was clear—Torchwick had a pattern. He'd found a vulnerability in Schnee tech and a way to exploit it. Unfortunately, there was still nothing to suggest that he was hiding out in any STC facilities. Not a soul had entered or left any of the potential candidates for as long as they'd watched. They could predict how he'd choose his next target, but still didn't know how to find him.

Then, one very early morning, Weiss and Jaune were woken by some excited yelling.

"It's him! I saw him! Weiss! Jaune! It was _him_!"

For five seconds, Weiss's groggy mind could be nothing but peeved until the meaning of the words caught up with her. She clumsily unburied herself from her duvet and sprang out of bed. Jaune, wearing a messy head of hair and the same clothes he'd had on the night before, was already standing at the computer by the time Weiss hurried through the door he'd left open. She took her place next to Ruby, who pointed at one of the camera feeds. It watched a warehouse that had been owned by an STC subsidiary, which was also now defunct. Weiss spotted a vehicle in the parking lot that had heretofore always remained vacant, but no other sign of life. It was an expensive luxury car painted pure white with gold accents. It had been left running with the headlights turned off.

"He went inside just a second ago," Ruby said. "He was alone and didn't look like he had any trouble with the lock."

"You're sure it was him?" said Jaune.

"Hat, cane, orange hair—couldn't have been anyone else."

"Where is this?" Weiss asked.

Ruby pulled up a list of addresses, each with a number corresponding to one of the spy cameras on the other monitors. Ruby typed one into a maps tool without having to look at the keyboard.

"That's . . . Hey, this is only a couple blocks away from Blake's place," she said.

Weiss pursed her lips. Irony. Ruby wanted her sister away from their apartment so that Torchwick wouldn't know where she lived, so she sent her to stay within walking distance of said crime boss's secret lair— _if_ that's what this building was. It was a bit strange how they'd not seen him anywhere near it up until now. Perhaps he'd just gotten back from a vacation or something.

"So . . . what happens now?" Weiss asked.

"We watch him, scout the area, and come up with a plan," said Jaune.

"Yeah!" Ruby said enthusiastically. "Then we take him down, once and for all."

Weiss's heart began to beat faster as she continued to watch the still camera feed. This was really happening. It was no longer this far off thing that may or may not happen. No one more capable was coming to take the burden from them. Ruby and Jaune were going to dive headfirst into danger, with or without Weiss, and nothing could prevent that.

One of the bay doors on the warehouse opened and a man walked out of it. There was no mistaking him. Torchwick stood to the side and waved his hand, signaling the car to change gears and cross the threshold. He followed it back inside, and the door slowly began to close behind him. Before it shut completely, they were able to catch a glimpse of the driver's heeled knee-high boots as she exited the vehicle.

"Weiss," Ruby said after a few seconds.

Weiss met her eyes.

"You're going to have to make your choice now," said Ruby. "We can't form a plan until we know whether you're in or out."

Weiss looked away. "I know."

A silence dragged on. Before either of them decided to comment further, Jaune suddenly dug his scroll out of his pocket, the screen alight. He stared at it a moment before tapping a button and bringing the device up to his ear.

"Hey, Saph," he said. "What? Yeah, I'm fine . . . What news?" There was a pause, then all the blood drained from his face. "What? No. No, that's . . ." He grew silent. The person he was talking to continued frantically chattering away as his arm fell limply to his side.

"Jaune? What's wrong? What happened?" Ruby asked.

He said nothing, staring blankly at the wall behind her.

"Jaune?" Ruby said, more worried than before. " _Jaune_!"

He finally looked down at her, then swallowed. His lips parted, but his voice was lost to him.

Weiss stepped up to the computer and opened a new tab on a web browser. She searched for the latest news, then let out an involuntary gasp at what she found.

"Oh," was all Ruby could think to say.

The first article was titled, _Impostor Protector of Vale Unmasked at Last_. It was accompanied by a picture of Jaune in the suit with his helmet off.


	15. V1C15: Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my beta readers: 0neWhoWanders, Bardothren, and I Write Big. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.
> 
> Just so this is on the record, lien in this universe roughly equates to Chinese yen. So 1 lien is about 1 US penny. I thought I'd put this here in case you'd all forgotten by now or just hadn't pieced it together from context, yet.
> 
> P.S. I apologize for the longest delay yet. I know that seems par for the course at this point, but this time I had a valid reason. I got pretty sick at the start of this year which left me too miserable to get any writing done at all for two weeks. After fully recovering I found a good deal of difficulty getting back into the usual groove of things and finding a consistent writing schedule—in short, more procrastination and lack of motivation really slowed down progress. But I'm feeling good now and am hoping to get the next chapter finished at a decent pace.

A heavy silence fell over the room, enveloping them like a dense fog. Everything was still as they stood in shock, allowing the news to slowly sink in. The article took up the bottom middlemost monitor, keeping every eye locked on to the incriminating photo of Jaune.

"That's Brunswick," the man said in a hollow voice. "I-I never saw a camera."

So Torchwick was to blame for this, then. That's why they were only just now catching him entering the warehouse, Weiss realized—he'd been in Vacuo for some reason and only just gotten back.

"Jaune," Ruby said softly, taking a step toward him and reaching for his shoulder.

"Dammit," he muttered.

"Jaune, it's going to be—"

"Dammit!" He moved away from her and slammed his fist against the wall. "This is why I gave this up in the first place! I was never cut out for this, I was never going to be _her_."

"But you _can_ —"

"Ruby, just . . . _stop_." Jaune's voice cracked. "It's over."

"We can find a way through this. There's still—"

"I said _stop_!" He whirled around, a wild look in his eye.

"Hey, don't you lash out at her!" Weiss's sympathy for him, though still present, wavered.

His anger faltered, and his expression began to sober. He stared down at the ground, seeming surprised to see he was still clutching onto his scroll. He ended the call and pocketed the device, freeing that hand to also ball into a fist.

"No, it's fine," Ruby said. "I get it. Let's just . . . give him some space."

"Right," said Jaune, his tone low and empty. "Space. Won't be seeing much of that behind bars."

"You're _not_ going to jail," said Ruby.

"Ruby . . ." Jaune sighed. "I'm sorry for yelling. But I don't need your optimism right now."

Ruby hesitated. "Alright. So what _do_ you need?"

"I don't . . . I don't know." He was silent for a bit. "I just need to go."

"Go _where_?" Weiss demanded.

It took him a while to voice his answer. "To the cops."

" _What?_ " said Ruby.

"You can't be serious," said Weiss.

"What else am I supposed to do?" he asked. "I have a life, I have family. I can't just become a fugitive. I'm studying law, and my oldest sister's a lawyer, but I can't be cleared if I don't turn myself in."

"But what about Torchwick?" said Ruby.

"What about him?" said Jaune. "He got us—he got _me_. We missed our chance, and he won."

" _No_ , he didn't. We know where he is now. We can still take him down while there's still time."

"Ruby," said Weiss. "I . . . I think Jaune's right. Without him, stopping Torchwick is impossible. And if he goes back out there in that suit, then his chances of being exonerated will be reduced to almost nothing."

"But we're _so_ close! We have what we need, we _found_ him."

"We found him too late," said Jaune. "It's over."

"But—"

"It's _over_."

Ruby's head fell. A long silence ensued before she said in a hollow voice, "So . . . what happens now?"

"The only option we have," Weiss said. "We go to the authorities. We tell them what we know, excluding certain details—" she gestured toward Jaune "—and hope it doesn't take too many sacrifices for them to apprehend Torchwick and Neo."

Ruby bit her lip, clearly unhappy. Weiss wasn't stoked about this plan either, in all honesty. She'd been hoping for something to come along and make her choice for her, but not like this. The cost of stopping Torchwick without the inhibitor and Ruby's semblance was too high, but now there was no other option. They wouldn't stand a chance without Jaune and his armor.

"I don't like it," said Ruby.

"Well it's all you've got," said Jaune. Then, after a few seconds, "Maybe this is for the best."

"What are you talking about?" Weiss said incredulously.

"I already let you down," he said. "I took the helmet off when I shouldn't have, and look where that got us. At least now I can't make any mistakes that would get either of you killed."

"And here I thought Ruby was the optimist."

"You _wouldn't_ have gotten us killed," said Ruby.

"Maybe not. Now we'll never have to know." Jaune stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I should go."

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Ruby asked. "They haven't even made a call for your arrest yet."

"That we know of. If the cops haven't broken into my apartment already, then they'll be on their way soon. It's better to get ahead of them. The sooner I submit to questioning, the sooner I'll be cleared, right?" His words indicated hope but sounded hollow.

"So that's it, then? You're just going to say goodbye and leave us? After all that's happened, after what we just learned?"

"Yeah. Pretty much." Jaune fiddled with the collar of his shirt. His feet were pointed in two different directions as if each had their own idea of where they should carry him. In the end, they came to an agreement and brought him close enough to Ruby to hug her. He muttered something into her ear and, after a moment, she whispered something back. After they broke apart, Jaune looked at Weiss. He was hesitant, so she rolled her eyes and initiated the hug herself.

"Be safe, Jaune," she said.

"I will."

"Don't tell them anything about any of this—Torchwick, Maze, us. It'll only make you look more guilty."

"I know." He took a step back and wouldn't meet her eyes, then turned his back on both of them. Having not even taken off his shoes the previous night, he was able to leave without any further delay.

A ringing silence replaced his presence. Ruby sunk down to the floor, looking defeated, and hugged her knees. Weiss sat down beside her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"This was all for nothing," Ruby said.

"No, it wasn't," said Weiss. "We gathered a lot of substantial intel. _Us_ not being the ones to act on it doesn't make it a wasted effort."

"None of it matters. We'll tell the cops everything, they'll send in a tactical team, and Neo will just zip Torchwick away to freedom. Boom, back to square one."

Weiss didn't have a response. That was the only realistic outcome going forward. There are no exceptions in the law prohibiting paragons from using their semblances on non-consenting individuals—not even for law enforcement against criminals. So even if the police had access to someone like Ruby who could counter Neo's speed, they wouldn't be able to legally send them after her. It's a glaring flaw in the system, but no one seemed to care. Weiss's father had given so much money to corrupt politicians, yet he never influenced the rectification of any laws that actually mattered.

"Isn't this the part where you tell me I'm stupid and wrong and that the cops know what they're doing?" Ruby asked after a silence.

Weiss shook her head. "I wish it was, Ruby. But you're not stupid, and the police aren't equipped to handle this situation. Nothing short of miraculously catching Neo while she's asleep or dropping a bomb on the warehouse could guarantee success."

"Well . . . at least I'm not stupid." Ruby paused. "They wouldn't actually do that . . . would they?"

Weiss wanted to say, "Of course not," but didn't know whether that would be a lie. So instead, she said nothing.

"There's _got_ to be something we can still do," Ruby said.

"There isn't," said Weiss.

Half a minute passed before the girl spoke again. "Well . . . are you sure about that? What if . . .?" She bit her lip.

"Do I even _want_ to hear you finish that thought?"

"I mean . . . what if we did it _without_ Jaune?"

After taking a moment to process that suggestion, Weiss repositioned herself so that she could look her friend in the eye. "Did _what_ without Jaune, exactly?"

"We take down Torchwick," Ruby said. "Just you and me."

Weiss was speechless. If she hadn't grown to know Ruby as well as she had, she would've immediately thought the girl was joking. But there wasn't a doubt in her mind that Ruby was being completely serious.

"Look," Ruby said, clearly trying to stave off the impending lecture. She shifted and crossed her legs beneath herself. "I know what you're going to say—"

"Can we just . . ." Weiss rubbed her temple, "skip past me yelling at you and get to the part where you accept how horrible the idea you just came up with is? I don't think I have the energy to do this again. We keep going around this same circle over and over again. _When_ will you get tired of it?"

"Just me hear me out," Ruby pleaded.

Weiss only sighed.

"Neo is the only thing stopping the cops from having 9a chance to arrest Torchwick," Ruby said. "If we can get her out of the picture, we can tip off Yang and Blake and they can have the building surrounded before Torchwick even knows what's happening, and he'll have no way to escape."

"And the part where we have to get past who knows how many armed criminals without the one person who has any kind of experience with this sort of thing?"

" _Stealth_ ," Ruby said, spreading her hands and smiling as if she'd just proposed an airtight solution to the world's most complicated problem.

"Stealth," Weiss repeated blankly.

"We _sneak_ in. I can Blink us past any alarms by aiming through a window. We quietly find Neo, teleport right behind her—I prick her with the inhibitor and you cure her—then we sneak out and call in the cavalry."

"Ruby—"

"I know," Ruby interrupted. "I know what you're thinking. But this isn't going to be another Junior's. We wouldn't be rushing in recklessly and winding up trapped—we'd be going in prepared, carefully. And at the first sign of danger, we bail. I'll Blink us out to safety, and that's it. I'll _protect_ you."

Weiss studied her friend's face and said nothing. She saw a strange look of maturity in those silver eyes—a determined confidence that could almost reassure her that Ruby had learned from her past mistakes.

"But I won't do this without you," Ruby continued. "I won't go in alone and pressure you to come along and risk your life just for me. If you don't want to do this, neither of us will. Just don't make any snap decisions like I would— _honestly_ think about it."

Weiss was impressed. That was all of her worries addressed. Perhaps Ruby _had_ learned from all of this after all. Her words had somehow left Weiss conflicted—she was uncertain in a situation where a refusal should have come without hesitation. The silence dragged on for what felt like an eternity until Weiss finally found the will to speak.

"I'll consider it," she found herself saying. But, deep down, a part of her already knew what her answer would be.

* * *

Weiss was beginning to wonder if there was another reason as to why she'd foolishly volunteered to help Ruby investigate her mother's murder. Was it possible that a part of her had simply seen a girl in distress and felt the urge to help? Weiss _had_ chosen a career where she could aid people in need, despite having a wealthy father who'd wanted to prepare her to head up the family business one day—a multi-trillion lien company with international influence. There'd always been a drive within her to aid those less fortunate than her, but perhaps it was more potent than she'd once thought. That drive was now causing her to put her own life in peril. Could Ruby be right? Did Weiss have what it took to be a hero?

It was a ridiculous notion, somehow becoming less so. It wasn't like the word "hero" was synonymous with "vigilante", anyway. But, with what she was preparing to do, the distinction didn't seem all that relevant. What _was_ relevant was the fact that a girl had been abducted as a child and hadn't known a single day of freedom since. Weiss had the power to change that, and the idea—however unlikely—of that girl dying to a bomb with her master's name written on it was too terrible to consider.

"How do I look?" Ruby stepped into the room and stood erect with her hands on her hips. She was completely unrecognizable. A hooded cloak sprawled down her back and stopped at her lower leg, the outside dark red with a brighter inner lining. She wore a well-tailored suit that covered everything from her collar down to her boots. It consisted of mostly dark colors accented by reds and a touch of silver. It was primarily made of leather, but Weiss knew some armor plates were hidden beneath the material. And to complete the look, Ruby wore the same metal mask she'd shown to Weiss over a month ago.

Weiss, who had just finished getting dressed herself, took a few seconds to look over her friend. It was the first time she'd seen the complete outfit, and it looked impressive—if she hadn't known Ruby had made it entirely herself, she'd think it was stolen off the set of a blockbuster superhero movie. Weiss's honest opinion was that the look suited Ruby, but she knew that sort of compliment would go to her head. What she said instead was, "You've looked worse."

Ruby lowered the hood and took off her mask to reveal a grin. "I'll take it!"

Weiss, by comparison, looked downright drab. Due to lack of time and resources, her outfit consisted entirely of dark jeans and the black hoodie Ruby had begun wearing to class after Torchwick had seen her in her favorite red zip-up. "You look so normal!" is what Ruby had had to say about the getup. She'd probably meant it as a compliment, but Weiss hadn't taken it as one. It was the dowdiest she'd ever dressed. Even after losing the family fortune, it was a point of pride that she _always_ presented herself with some class. But, unfortunately, this was optimal for what they were about to undertake, as they both needed to be disguised and hard to spot.

"Did you ever get that voice modulator working?" Weiss asked.

Ruby smacked herself in the forehead. "Oh, right! I forgot." She put the mask back on and flicked a hidden switch. When she spoke, she sounded pretty similar to how Jaune did with his helmet, only a bit higher-pitched. "Stop right there, criminal scum! Eh, see? Oh, wait! You still haven't heard my superhero name."

"And I don't want to."

"What? Oh, come on. Of course you do!"

"No, I don't. Asking to hear your vigilante alias would be me approving of you ever putting that costume on again after tonight, which I _don't_."

"Psh! No it wouldn't. You—"

"Would you take that thing off?"

"Right, sorry. But you've gotta be at least a little curious."

"I'm not. Besides, it's usually the media that nicknames new vigilantes."

" _Usually_. Unless the hero beats them to it."

"And you think that you can do that."

"You've just got to be quick on the draw, and I'm pretty fast. I came in first in three of my high school track meets."

"That's . . . I don't see how that's relevant."

"You know I'm gonna tell you the name whether you want me to or not, right?"

Weiss sighed. "Do what you want, but I still don't approve of this."

"I am—" Ruby raised her chin up higher "—The Insomniac!"

It took Weiss a few seconds to respond to that. "The Insomniac. Don't you think that's a bit . . . _identifying_ to anyone who knows about your semblance's price?"

"It doesn't have anything to do with my semblance—not as far as the public's concerned, at least. That was how I got the inspiration, sure, but it really just means I'll be up fighting crime both day and night."

Weiss frowned. "And when exactly _do_ you intend to sleep? Your semblance isn't going to keep you up all day and night if you're hypothetically using it to 'fight crime'."

"When does any hero sleep? I'll find the time. But that's not important. Do you like the name or not?"

"I refuse to form an opinion."

"If you don't tell me you hate it, then I'll assume you like it."

"Don't be a child."

Ruby gave her an expectant look, but Weiss didn't give in to her game. She turned her back on the silver-eyed girl and picked up the gloves that would—excluding the ski mask stuffed into her pocket—complete the ensemble.

"Are we ready then or not?" she asked, picturing Ruby's triumphant face as she put them on.

"I knew you liked it!"

"Just answer the question!" Weiss snapped.

"Of course I'm ready!"

"Then let's go before I change my mind."

Weiss led the way out of the living quarters. Her heart rate, which had already been refusing to drop below one hundred beats per minute for the past hour, began to beat even faster. This was, without a doubt, the dumbest decision she'd ever made. Every fiber of her being wanted to renege on it, but she couldn't. Ruby's plan was sound, so Weiss just had to have faith in it.

* * *

"There." Ruby pointed. "That looks like a good way in."

Kneeling next to her atop a building, shrouded by the dark of night, Weiss followed her finger toward the neighboring STC warehouse. A door with a thin, rectangular window on it seemed to be what Ruby was referencing.

"That's an emergency exit," Weiss said, squinting and seeing no exterior handle. "They're meant to be kept unobstructed, which means there won't be anything to provide cover."

"Do you really think that _Torchwick_ follows safety regulations?"

"No, but that doesn't mean we should bet on him going out of his way to break them."

"Hmm." Ruby thought for a few seconds. "I could Blink us to another rooftop so we can see the other side of the building."

"How many times do you think you can do that?"

"I'm not sure. Last time I was able to use my semblance fourteen times before I felt like I was about to collapse. But those were really short Blinks. I haven't tried to go all that far yet—there hasn't been a chance, being cooped up all this time. And I don't know how much Blinking with a passenger affects me, either—I haven't done it since Junior's."

"You still need to get us into and back out of the warehouse. Will you be able to manage that if you teleport us to that other vantage point first?"

"I think so."

"You _think_ so? Ruby, we're taking enough risks as is. We can't afford—"

"I can do it," Ruby interrupted. "I know I can."

Weiss scrutinized her face and saw a look of fierce determination. "Okay. I trust you."

Ruby concentrated on their destination and held her hand out. Weiss took it and shortly after felt a violent tugging sensation behind her abdomen. Her ears popped, and then, instantaneously, the two were somewhere else.

After a moment's disorientation, Weiss caught her balance and took in the new view. "I don't know _how_ you can bear repeatedly going through that."

"Going through what?" said Ruby.

Weiss stared at her. "Teleporting! It feels horrible—how can you stand it?"

Ruby shrugged. "It feels _good_ to me."

" _What?_ So you don't feel _any_ of the discomfort?"

"No. I feel a bit of a rush, like when going down a short drop on a roller coaster, but that's it. Nothing bad."

Weiss had never ridden a roller coaster before, and so couldn't reference the feeling Ruby was describing. She almost said that aloud, but then realized that such an idea was probably unthinkable to someone like Ruby. Now wasn't the best time to have another small, pointless argument.

"Let's just focus," said Weiss. She studied the warehouse. This view looked upon the more elevated edge of its slanted roof. A line of windows ran along the wall right beneath it. It was dark, but the interior was visible. As far as they could see, this was the only other line-of-sight they had.

"I can Blink us onto the rafters," Ruby said, "and from there down to somewhere out of view."

" _Can_ you? Rafters are thin. You'd need to be very precise to land us up there safely."

"I can do it."

"If we fall—"

"Just _trust_ me."

Weiss hesitated. It was a dangerous proposition—one tiny mistake would end in disaster. But . . . she _did_ trust Ruby. And it wasn't like they had any other viable options.

"How tired are you now?" Weiss asked.

"Well . . . definitely more than if I'd just done a short Blink, but not enough to worry. I've still got plenty of energy in me."

Weiss relented. "If you believe you can pull it off, then . . . I think this is our best course of action."

"Then get ready." Ruby put on her mask. "This is your last chance to back out of this."

"I know." Following her lead, Weiss dug the ski mask out of her pocket and pulled it over her face, then covered it with her hood for extra measure—her hair was currently stuffed down the back of her shirt, as well, which wasn't exactly comfortable. Ruby held out her hand, and Weiss took it once again, then felt that familiar tug.

Her fears of slipping and falling off the rafters didn't come true. She skipped straight to the falling, her feet never making contact with the metal at all. Weiss's stomach dropped as she began to plummet for all of half a second before she was teleported once more. Her momentum died in an instant, and she found herself lying on something solid. The ceiling looked abnormally close.

Ruby was already in a kneeling position as Weiss released her hand and sat up. Weiss was about to reprimand her, but then she heard someone that forced her to bite her tongue.

"Ten million? She can't be serious."

The voice—a voice Weiss recognized and loathed—came from below. The two had appeared atop a heavy rack between a pair of loaded pallets covered in dust. Weiss looked down upon the dimly-lit warehouse to see the top of a bowler hat, its wearer walking by with a pair of greasy-haired goons following behind. One of his hands was up to his ear while the other played with a zippo lighter.

"It could easily go for sixty at an auction," Torchwick said, then went silent for a few seconds. "That doesn't sound like my problem . . . Look, you tell your girls that if their mom wants the painting, then I'll take no less than thirty for it . . . No, I won't settle for twenty-five! Do you not know what 'no less' means?" He muttered something away from the receiver. "I've got quotas to meet and a busy schedule, so if you could stop wasting my time, that would be just _fantastic_ . . . Well if that's the way it is, then I'll find another buyer."

"No sign of Neo," Ruby whispered.

She was right. From their current vantage point, there wasn't too much obstructed from view by the other racks. The three men were the building's only apparent occupants. But Weiss knew Neo had to be in here somewhere—they'd just seen her and Torchwick's arrival not even half an hour ago on the camera feed. That was why they'd chosen now to make their move, two days after Jaune turned himself in—it was the first time since then that they could be sure that both the criminal and his slave soldier would be here.

"Alright, now that's what I like to hear," said Torchwick. "Now, if I could contact her directly, it'd make setting up the exchange a whole lot easier . . . Fine. So long as I get the money. A pleasure doing business as always, Junior."

He stopped walking as he hung up the scroll. Wait, no. Not a scroll—a cheap burner phone. He pocketed it then turned to his men.

"Perr—shit. I wonder when I'll ever stop doing that. What's your name again? It doesn't matter. Just go tell Neo to add another thirty million lien to the report."

"Right. On it." One of the henchmen turned and started to walk in the other direction, but paused at a sudden exclamation from his boss.

"Dutch! Wait, no. Duke! That's it—your name is Duke. Alright, continue on."

"We need to follow him!" Ruby whispered urgently.

"Obviously!" Weiss hissed back.

But it seemed their good fortune had already been spent on finding Torchwick so quickly without being discovered. The henchman was walking along the ends of the racks and away from the one the two women were currently perched on, meaning they'd have to teleport again to keep track of him. Weiss was getting worried. Ruby would have to use her semblance at least two more times—once to get the drop on Neo and another for their escape. Getting to another shelf would make it three. That number could get even larger due to any number of unpredictable factors, their odds of success going down the higher it went. If Ruby passed out before they could escape the premises . . . The thought was too troubling to bear.

Without even asking if she was ready, Ruby grabbed Weiss's wrist and teleported them two racks over. After taking a second to reorient herself and throw a glare at Ruby—who wasn't even looking—Weiss looked back down at their unknowing guide. Duke arrived at the corner of the building—about twenty feet directly below the two women—and took a turn, continuing along that wall until he reached a door that Weiss and Ruby couldn't see from their old position. He went through it into a room that had likely served as an office while this place was still up and running.

"She's in there," Ruby said. "We wait for the guy to come back out, then we Blink inside and make our move before the door closes."

Weiss glanced back up at the windows. They wouldn't be able to see them from inside that room, and Ruby needed to see the outside to be able to teleport them to safety.

"Maybe we should wait," Weiss suggested.

"This is our best chance," said Ruby. "She'll be alone in there, if we're lucky. But if we wait too long, then Torchwick and his two bodyguards could decide to come back this way and join her in there, or she could leave and zoom away and we'll miss our shot."

She was right. It was a gamble no matter what they did, and they didn't have too much time to deliberate. At least Ruby's plan ensured the highest odds of successfully curing Neo.

"Be ready," Ruby said.

Weiss shakily removed her left glove and pocketed it. Her heart had to be beating at at least double the rate it had been a minute ago, but this was about as ready as she could ever be. How are you supposed to prepare yourself to attack a superhuman who'd been conditioned their entire life to be a perfect killer? If Ruby couldn't place that inhibitor, it'd be all over in an instant—their lives snuffed out for nothing. This was insane. What were they thinking?

The door opened and the same man from before exited.

"This is it." Ruby gripped Weiss's right wrist.

What happened next went by too quickly for Weiss to comprehend. All she knew for sure was that they teleported twice, there was a loud crash, and something struck her in the face so hard she wound up sliding on her back across the floor.

"I-Intruders!" A man shouted.

Fast, echoing footsteps approached. Weiss's jaw throbbed, and her head ached, but the pain quickly lessened as adrenaline began to pump through her veins. Her vision sharpened, and she was able to take in the situation. There was a hole in the surprisingly thin wall to the side of the door they'd seen from atop the shelf. Ruby laid motionless on the other side of it, surrounded by fragments of wood with one foot still in the office. Duke stood nearby, looking over his shoulder in the direction he'd come from with his hand on a holstered pistol. Meanwhile, Neo herself approached Weiss at a quick pace with malice in her mismatched eyes, as well as something silver stuck to her neck—the inhibitor. Ruby had succeeded in her part, but Weiss had failed in hers. She'd been too slow.

She glanced at Ruby again. The girl was beginning to stir, but she seemed dazed. It meant that she was still conscious, though. That was enough for Weiss, who—without an ounce of grace—quickly stood back up. She raised her arms and carefully positioned her feet. She knew she didn't stand a chance. Even without her speed, there were probably very few people who could contend with Neo. But winning a fight wasn't Weiss's goal. All she needed was to hold out long enough for Ruby to regain herself and teleport them away.

Neo smirked. Her fist came fast and—surprisingly—Weiss managed to perfectly block it. That was an outlier, however, as the next hits came ruthlessly and unhindered, despite Weiss's best efforts. She kept backing up, rapidly accumulating more bruises, until her back connected with the wall, just inches away from the new gaping hole. All the while, Neo had a smile on her face. She was toying with her.

"I'm here to _help_ you!" Weiss said desperately. Any second now, the adrenaline would wear off and all the pain would catch up to her.

Neo tilted her head and looked at her strangely. Weiss took advantage of her singular moment of pause and shot her bare hand forward. It made contact with the side of the paragon's face, strands of pink hair tickling Weiss's knuckles. Neo's eyes narrowed in fury and, rather than smacking Weiss's arm away, she reached out and gripped her throat. But it was too late. Weiss—with difficulty—finished inhaling, and then entered her mind.

* * *

The first thing she noticed was the pattering of rain against her skin and the clashing of thunder in the sky, as had been the case in Torchwick's mind. Then she found herself struggling to breathe, as if her airway was still being obstructed by Neo. But that wasn't even her most pressing concern. As she looked around, expecting to learn which forest she was in, she didn't see a single tree in sight. The ground beneath her feet was ash and stretched off into the distance in every direction. The world was completely barren except for her.

"Leave!"

The voice came loudly from above, somehow both frail and angry. It sounded like that of a little girl, a child whose age couldn't have even reached double digits yet. Weiss realized with a pang of sadness that it was probably the last voice Neo had ever heard come out of her own mouth.

Next came the lightning bolt. Weiss had been ready for it this time. She'd tossed her sword away and already begun running by the time the smell of ozone reached her nostrils. She covered her ears and came to a stop the instant the bang came. Her already unsteady breathing became even more so.

The lack of trees should have made it easy to see far, but the haze of rain, dense clouds, and dark of night counteracted that. Weiss couldn't see anything beyond a hundred feet of her. This was hopeless. She was starting to get light-headed. Even if she could last long enough to find a Grimm, she stood no chance of actually killing it. There was nothing she could accomplish here.

Still, though, she stayed, for she feared what awaited her back in reality. The seconds went by, and she knew she'd have to leave soon for the sake of her own health. Neo's faceless avatar should have shown up and attacked her by now unless Weiss's experience with Torchwick had just been an anomaly. But it was nowhere to be seen.

Helplessly, Weiss dropped down to her knees and prepared to exit the mind. As she breathed in, lightning flashed off in the distance. It illuminated a dark tower with a large chain on either end linking the top to the ground. Before she even had the chance to be perplexed by this, she was back in the real world.

Neo gasped and stumbled backward, clutching either side of her head in her hands.

"Neo!" a concerned voice yelled out.

Weiss, gratefully breathing in as much air as she could, looked toward it. Torchwick had already arrived with his other goon, and he looked furious.

"Quit standing there and shoot her!" he barked.

Weiss's eyes widened as two guns were raised to point directly at her. All she could do was stand there in fear, watching in slow motion as fingers moved toward the triggers.

 _Whoosh!_ There was a flash of red. _Bang! Bang!_ A splash of red and a distorted cry. Weiss felt a hand on her wrist, a tug in her gut, and then she was falling.

* * *


End file.
